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#i still barely can form a coherent sentence and my thoughts are a tangle of screams and english is not working the way it's supposed to so
radioactive-cloud · 8 months
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i feel the need to write my thoughts down a bit (and i hope this doesn't come out as like. weird or smth.)
so like. jan's photos have dark background, and he almost blends in with it. he's closed off and guarded, he hides behind his hair and his hand and desperately doesn't want others seeing him as he is. when they are together but not behind the "door", he doesn't let nace be the one to say it, whatever that it is, yet still he's not quite ready to say anything himself. this choice is his.
nace's photos show him struggling with something, but he's still quite open. he shows his tattoos (which are a way to express himself), he quite literally wears his heart (the tour bus which means his band which means his family) on his sleeve. and even if he's struggling a bit, he's willing to lay down and wait, he's accepted it and is content with it.
and then they are together. they are hiding behind a see through glass door that shows them to the world but, still, it's just them behind it and no one can get through it. they can be comfortable and safe and vulnerable there because they know that even if they are visible to others, they still have each other to lean on. they're each other's safe sweater.
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folkloreguk · 3 years
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French Class [6]
A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!
genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut
words: ~ 3.8 k
✽series masterlist✽
taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon
couldn’t tag: @chorizoek
You: can I come over? I kind of need u
H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone
It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.
The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.
“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”
You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.
“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.
“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.
“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.
“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.
“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”
You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.
“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”
With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.
“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.
“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”
He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”
“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”
“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”
“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.
“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.
“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.
“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.
“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.
“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”
At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.
“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.
“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”
“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.
“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.
“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”
“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.
“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.
“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.
“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”
He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.
“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”
You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.
“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.
“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.
“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.
“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.
He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.
One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.
“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”
In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.
Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.
“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.
“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.
Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.
“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”
This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.
When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.
“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.
“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”
“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.
“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.
The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.
Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.
Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.
Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.
The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.
Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”
He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.
He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.
“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”
Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.
“Okay,” you answered.
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cursestothemoon · 3 years
Note
I’m so excited your requests are open!!! Can I request a blurb of rough sex with Charlie where he throws around and manhandles his girlfriend (it’s all safe and consensual). I just know he’s a bit burly dude who would have no problem picking up his girlfriend with one arm
Watch Your Mouth
C.W. x FEM!READER
17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW
warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, manhandling, size kink, tummy bulge, praise kink, sub!reader/dom!Charlie, mentions of edging, spanking, overstimulation, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap it before you tap it), kind of subspace (nothing too intense), also unedited because i am lazy ✋🏻😔
“But it hurts.” You whined into your boyfriend's ear.
Subtlety was fading fast in your act, after Charlie spent all night last night teasing you with the idea of an orgasm but never actually letting you get there you were far past the point of just horny.
Charlie placed a warning hand on your thigh, fingers gripping the flesh tight enough to have you squirming, “Eat your food and behave.”
His tone was husky, whispers harsh as he tried to keep you at bay in front of his family. Perhaps dinner at the Weasley’s- a usual Friday event- wasn’t the best place to start acting up but really it was Charlie’s fault. He had to have known his teasing would result in something of this sort.
You also knew his hand could be heavy when he wanted it to be, spanks from Charlie always left a mark that could be felt for days following. So you listened to him, quietly picking at your roast as your mind wandered to what might be in store for you once you two got home.
“Yeah, better get going, it’s getting rather late.” Charlie announced as he stood up from the couch, your hand in his.
You had to restrain from vibrating with excitement as you stood up next to Charlie, your head barely reaching his broad shoulders.
Everyone bid farewell to you two, a longer exchange than you would’ve liked but you managed. Finally Charlie pulled you into his side, tucking you under his arm as he appareled you two to your flat- after the war he wanted to move closer to his family and you had no complaints.
Leaning on the hardwood floor of your living room, you stumbled a bit only to be grabbed by Charlie. His arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up and off your feet, carrying you to the bedroom. He grunted through the doorframe, making sure he wasn’t going to hit your head on the wall as he passed through before tossing you onto the bed. Upon hitting the mattress your body bounced roughly, only adding fuel to the fire of your excitement.
Charlie pulled his boots off hastily, hands moving to unbutton his shirt and fling it somewhere in the room to be retrieved later for you to wear. In just a pair of tight black boxer briefs and a single silver chain dangling between his pecs, a dragon tooth at the end.
You watched him with wide eyes, breath hitching as he grabbed your hips and flipped you over with ease. His palm, open and heavy, rested on your plump backside. You panicked, trying to turn around to face him, because you knew what that meant but you thought you had been a good girl.
“But I was good.” You whined trying to move your butt away from him.
He tutted, pulling your hips back to where they were, “You were good...after I had to tell you to behave, and now you’re questioning me.”
“Because I was good. If you hadn’t been mean, not letting me cum, then I wouldn’t have been so needy. S’your fault.”
The silence was deafening and you realized you should’ve kept your mouth shut.
“My fault?” Charlie questioned, his voice unnervingly calm.
You shook your head quickly, trying to back track as best you could, “No, no no, I didn’t- I’m sorry, I’m your good girl, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, “My good girl wouldn’t blame me for her being a horny slag. My good girl wouldn’t question my authority. My good girl would take her punishment, but no. You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?”
Charlie didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead grabbing the material of your tights and quite literally tearing them apart, exposing your g-string and soaking cunt. He continued to rip and tear your tights until whatever was left didn’t have enough structure to stay on, he picked up the pieces and tossed them to the floor before roughly tugging your shirt and bra off. 
There was a moment of silence again, as Charlie adjusted the rings on his fingers. You barely allowed yourself to calm down before he was sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbing you by the waist to roughly pull you across his lap. The action made you squeal, your legs kicking up in an attempt to stall the punishment that was coming. He wasn’t having it, forcing your legs under his thick thigh to keep them out of the way before playing with the thin string that made up the back of your thong. You let out a muffled whine as he pulled on it, lifting it up and making the front of your panties rub against your throbbing clit then letting it go, snapping it against your skin.
“Only thing I wanna hear out of your mouth are apologies after every swat. Understood?” He asked, hand running across the globes of your ass.
You nodded, not wanting to anger him further.
“So you do know how to watch your fucking mouth, good.”
You had little time to prepare before his hand came down onto your backside with a painful sting sending pools of arousal straight to your core.
“I’m sorry, Charlie.”
Another swat hit your warm flesh, then another, and another. With each slap apologies fell passed your lips along with muffled cries, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.
Forty spanks later your butt was beet red and practically numb, his ring clad hand massaging the raw skin making you whimper. He dipped his hand down to your core, running two fingers up your slit collecting your juices before teasing your entrance making you jolt. His other arm came down to keep you still as his fingers entered you, making your walls clench. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the moans as he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, alternating between fast thrusts and massaging the spongey spot that made your vision go fuzzy.
You gripped his calf tightly as your orgasm neared, your legs started shaking and you could only hope he’d let you finally get off. Only you weren’t so lucky, Charlie pulled his hand away quickly watching as you writhed around in his lap.
“You wanna cum? I’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.”
His hand dove back in between your legs, this time with an unbelievably fast pace making you let out loud, wanton cries. Charlie’s arm pressed down on your hips firmly, giving you no wiggle room as your toes curled and eyes screwed shut, orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks.
You were shoved onto the bed as you heaved, Charlie having no trouble moving your from place to place without your cooperation. He got down on his knees, eye level with your pussy clenching pathetically around nothing.
Making sure you were still sensitive from your first climax, he was quick to dive into your weeping cunt. Tongue lapping at your glistening folds and nose nudging your clit, your twitching was uncontrollable as he was relentless with his mouth. Your hands tangled themselves in his deliciously wavy red mane as his copper beard rubbed the insides of your thighs raw.
You were unable to form coherent sentences, choked cries, waterlogged moans, and desperate pleas were the only things leaving your lips. Charlie gripped your thighs tightly, keeping them open after they had started to close around his head. You came again, loud sobs sounding through the room as he continued his torturous lapping at your cunt only to pull away seconds after your second orgasm hit you to aggressively rub at your clit.
“Go on, cum, you were begging for this.”
The back and forth motion only got faster as you tried to close your thighs and push his hand away, a third orgasm washing over you before you could even realize. Charlie pulled his hand away after giving your clit a harsh slap making you cry out again. 
Charlie took his time peeling off his briefs, his prick taut against his abdomen with precum leaking from the mouth watering tip. He had always had a rather gorgeous cock, the lively red of the spongey head contrasting the creamy beige of the shaft had you clenching your legs in need. You’d never say no to that no matter how worn out or sensitive you were, he was just far too beautiful. But the sheer size alone had excited nerves mixing in your belly, regardless of how often you’ve seen him nude. His tip was dangerously close to his navel, and not only was he gifted with length but his veiny cock was girthy- never failing to stretch your aching pussy out just how you liked it. 
You watched as his hand gave a few languid strokes to himself before your eyes traveled over the expanse of his torso. His skin was dappled with countless freckles and a few scars scattered here and there from misbehaving dragons or rowdy brothers, most of the time his sheer size as a human had your walls convulsing. Charlie was big, he was tall but by no means lanky, his thighs were deliciously thick along with his biceps, his entire being painted in the likeness of Norse mythology’s Thor. 
“How cute, my little girl is staring.” Charlie teased, hand abandoning his cock and coming closer to you on the bed again. 
He gripped your hips with his large hands, pulling you up onto your knees with your ass in the air. You were too tired to hold your head up, opting to rest it on the mattress instead as you watched Charlie - as best you could from this position- as he paced a hand on the still raw skin of your backside. You didn’t need a mirror to know that a few visible handprints would be left on the skin for a while. The cool feeling of his hand on the skin made you jolt forward, but Charlie hunched over carefully and placed a handful of feathery kisses on the tender skin- you could’ve sworn the pain started to subside immediately at the contact. 
You whimpered as you felt him start to prod at your entrance, he chuckled at the way you wiggled your butt back into him hoping for more. Giving you what you wanted, he pushed in all the way, careful to go slow keeping in mind that he was rather large. 
“Look at you, taking m’cock so well.” He grunted, bottoming out. 
Cries emitted from your parted lips as you nodded into the sheets, words and sentences long gone as he started to thrust. You knew what was in store, and it only made your moans and chants of Charlie that much louder. It was no secret he had stamina, a product of his insatiable libido was usually you getting to cum twice before Charlie even thought of filling you up himself. Seeing as tonight you had already trembled through two, four and five seemed a bit daunting- but you need it. 
He quickened his pace, eagerly thrusting into your tight cunt as his voice started to crack with each grunt and groan before looping an arm around your midsection and pulling your back flush against his chest. The new position had your head lulling back, pornographic moans crooning from your mouth and into his neck. Your hand came up to make its way the back of Charlie’s head, fingers carding through the copper curls at the nape of his neck as his hips snapped up into you at a hellish pace. His hand, the one not occupied with holding you up, moved to rest on your lower belly wanting to feel the way your tummy bulged with each of his thrusts. You were so tiny compared to him, so dainty, and it made his thrusts get that much harder.
His breath fanned over your ear and neck as he spoke huskily, “Such a tight little cunt f’me, can feel my cock in your belly.”
You hummed in response, his hand pulling yours down to rest where his was just moments before. The outline of his dick, each time he thrusted, running up the inside of your palm making you clench around him. 
“S’like I’m gonna slit you in two, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
With pathetic cries and nods you answered, “Yes, want you t’split me in two, need it.”
Orgasm number four hit you before you could even register what was happening but Charlie didn’t slow his thrusts, instead dropping a hand to your pulsing clit to rub rough circles and the engorged nub. His other hand, still holding you up, shifted so he could grab a handful of your breast, pinching and pulling at your erect nipples as best he could while he kept you upright. The overstimulation had you seeing stars, orgasm number five was already knocking on your door ready to come barreling in. At some point, your not sure when seeing as your mind was foggy from your fast approaching orgasm, Charlie had doubled over with your body firmly held in his arms as his hips continued to thrust into your weeping pussy at lightning speed, your back still held tightly against his chest only now your chin was hitting the mattress with each rough thrust. 
You could register the stuttering of his thrusts meaning he was nearing his own release and you could finally let go for a fifth time. The weight of his body on top of yours mixed in with his forearm pressing into your abdomen and fingers massaging your clit while his balls were slapping against your glistening and used pussy had your body trembling uncontrollably in his grasp. Charlie gave a choked moan of your name as he finished deep inside you, your body spasming along with the walls of your cunt as you came with him. 
Charlie held you to his chest still, but shifted so he was now on his side and you were no longer taking any of his weight. Slowly he went to pull out of you, making you whimper at the feeling, your over used cunt far too sensitive for the movement.
“Shh, you’re ok,” He cooed, gentling running a palm down the side of your face and through your hair. “Gotta get you cleaned up, yeah? Then I want my best girl’s cuddles, ok?”
His voice was gently, coaxing you to open your eyes and look at him as you answered with a feeble nod, “Ok, then cuddles...” you murmured.
tags:
@amourtentiaa
@vsawyer1989​
@lifeofkaze
@siriusement
@erinblack003
@maybesandohnos
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fairy-seong · 3 years
Text
kim seokwoo x fem!reader
genre: smut, romance, fluff-ish (?) i am not sure i suck at writing cute things
warning(s): sexual content, oral (fem), possible grammar mistakes rowoon talking too much
song suggestion: onlyoneof - cOy
Seokwoo always wondered if you sensed it as well, the feeling like electricity going through your veins when you were together. When he held you close. When you held him close. Each embrace a little tighter, each kiss a little more intimate.
You blink at him through droopy eyelids, the smile not once fading as his fingertips clasp at your skin. Your pajama top rides up when you stir your position, gripping his forearm because of his tickling.
He leans on his elbows, pausing his actions for a moment, eyes gazing back into yours. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve. Your smile thins and a faint pink shade spreads on your cheeks. He always made your heart race when he stared at you like you put the stars in the sky.
“Do you know how adorable you are? You always get so shy when...”
“Because you stare at me too much,” you mumble your response.
“How can I help it when my tiny baby looks so cute?”
You lift your palms trying to hide your face, but Seokwoo is quicker than you expect by pinning your wrists to the side of your face. He giggles and presses his lips against yours. He is still smiling throughout the kiss while your arms wrap around his broad shoulders. You can feel his weight on yours, one of his hands coming down to your waist.
Seokwoo glances at your bare skin, your pajama bottoms hanging lower on your hips than usual. He never asked, not wanting to rush you, but images of you crumbling under his touch, broken whimpers falling from your plush lips were always in the back of his mind.
He peeks back at your face with uncertainty. He ponders over his next action, gulping down when you raise your eyebrows. Your eyes follow his gaze down, his palms getting a little sweaty as you flash a shy smile. You knew what he was thinking about; you could always guess from the way he grew a little restless, brown eyes turning dark. And you wanted it too. You were sure of it.
“Can you kiss me again?”
“I can kiss you all day long if that is what you want, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.
Seokwoo’s kisses always leave you breathless and needy. Wanting more of this. More of him.
You move your hips as he deepens the kiss. Allowing the moment to take over your mind and body as you grind against his thigh. He seems surprised, bringing his leg closer to your core. His full body tenses when a choked moan reaches his ears. You blink rapidly, blushing and burying your head in his chest when you lock eyes with the wet spot you left on his gray sweatpants.
“Are you sure? I can wait if you...”
You shake your head. “I want it. I want you.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am, with you," you let go of the rest of your thoughts, guiding his palm in between your thighs.
Seokwoo licks his lips as he helps you take off your pants. His eyes widen at the sight of your pink-laced underwear. It was adorable, just like you; it was even more adorable that you still tried to cover yourself up with a flushed face.
“Baby, don’t,” he complains “you’re so beautiful to me. You have no idea.”
Butterfly kisses cover your lower abdomen, making your smile return. Seokwoo always made it so easy for you to feel comfortable, to feel confident in your body. He can’t contain calling you beautiful like it is your name.
Your breath gets caught in your throat when his nose brushes over your clothes pussy, lips pressed over the fabric.
“Can I kiss you here?”
You barely nod when Seokwoo tugs at the soaked underwear, revealing your lower body fully. He keeps your legs open with both hands, lips kissing your inner thighs painfully slow. He nips on that sensitive spot which earned a sharp breath from you barely a moment ago.
“Are you sure you want this, baby? If I start kissing you, I will not be able to stop.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to stop either,” your voice is already shaking when he breathes hot air over your pussy.
He barely touched you, but you were already dripping all over yourself and his new satin sheets. But Seokwoo doesn’t care. Hell, he would give everything to see you like this every day. His thumb moves in circles against your clit, Seokwoo’s head laying on your thigh watching the way your body twitches, limbs getting weak.
He waited so long for this that he is not able to hold back for a long time. He kisses your pussy fully, lips dragging over the side and tongue moving along your slit. You hear a low grunt as you try to close your thighs instinctively, Seokwoo’s arms rushing to hold your hips in place again.
He hums sweetly against your pussy about how sweet you are while his licks get more intense. He wants to make you feel everything; wants to give you everything.
“Do you like it, baby? Do you love the way my lips feel on your body?”
Your answer comes faster than expected as a short whine. It drives him crazier than he ever imagined seeing you become putty in his hands... and mouth.
He laps at your pussy again, greedily wanting to taste you more and turn those shy whimpers into eager moans. Fingers dig into your hips and you grip the sheets a little harder. Your thighs close around his head when he continues to suck on your clit, teeth grazing over the delicate spot.
One of your hands tangles in his black hair, unconsciously tugging at the messy strands when his right arm cups your ass. He lifts your bottom slightly, pulling you towards him. Giving your pussy kitten licks, Seokwoo lifts his head to look into your eyes.
“Does it feel good, baby?”
It almost makes you want to curse seeing how hot he looks between your legs, his lips covered in you, juices dripping to his chin. He licks everything with a grin, pressing a teasing kiss right next to your slit. His breath fans over your cunt, asking you if you can moan for him.
And you do. Breathy moans and unrestrained whispers of his name filling the room as he continues to kiss and lick each part of your pussy. It felt like heaven, the way Seokwoo knew exactly what to do to have you arch your back and roll your eyes back in ecstasy.
“Love,” you struggle to form a coherent sentence between all the whines, “I want to feel more than your tongue inside me. Please,” you almost beg, gripping the sheets again.
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pingutats · 4 years
Text
at last!
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it’s the morning after harry proposed, and here you are, in heaven.
warnings: some sexual content, not very graphic.
word count: 2k
.                               .                           .                               .                           .
As soon as you start to drift awake, you feel this overwhelming sense of bliss. Like everything is right in the world, properly aligned and in harmony. Your heart feels full, warm like the way a lover would cradle their hands around yours on a chilly winter night. 
The thing that pulls you completely from the gentle embrace of sleep into the morning is someone actually grabbing your left hand. Not just someone, but Harry. And, you remember suddenly like a crack of lightning bursting through your sleep-weary skull, he isn’t just Harry, he’s —
“Morning, love,” he murmurs, his voice croaky and slightly slurred from sleep still, as he pulls your hand over to him and slips the ring back onto your fourth finger. “Y’always look so pretty in the morning. ‘Specially today.”
“H,” you whisper back, barely able to form a coherent thought. He’s your fiancé. You blink your eyes open, rubbing at them as you adjust to the weak light streaming through a window. “Oh my god, Harry.”
He’s grinning at you, eyes still half-closed. He brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring. “Oh my god, Y/N,” he repeats back, and you giggle.
You hold your hand up to the light, twisting your wrist so the small, classic diamond sparkles.  You’ve seen it before, of course. You’ve known what it looks like for ages. The two of you picked it out together in a store a couple months ago. You’ve spoken about this moment, over and over — sometimes in practical terms to try and plan for your future, sometimes whimsically as you spelled out your wildest dreams to each other — but now it’s here. It’s real.
He was insistent on being the one to propose. You could pick the ring, the wedding venue, write the guest list and choose his outfit and even curate the reception playlist, he offered— as long as he got to propose. You accepted, of course, without the bargaining. You wanted him to do it anyway.
Harry isn’t one for grand gestures. When you first met him, only knowing him as the glamorous rockstar that he performs as when he’s on stage, you had assumed he would be into the massive displays of affection, the lavish gifts and the kind of relationship that no one can tear their eyes away from. But he isn’t really like that.
Harry is a cup of tea set out for you in the morning before you even ask for one. The last segment of the mandarin he was eating, held out for you to take. A hundred kisses to your cheek over the course of a night out, for no particular reason except that he’s tipsy and he loves you. A playlist that he texts to you with a sweet note in the description. Making the bed by himself before you’re done brushing your teeth. Carrying you from the car to the door at three in the morning because your heels are killing you and he’d rather roll around naked on broken glass than see you in any amount of pain at all.
That’s what Harry is. So it made sense that, rather than flying you out to Paris and organising a string quartet to play in the background while he got down on one knee under the Eiffel Tower at night (something you had joked about often), he did it in his own little unassuming way. 
You wanted a surprise. That was all you asked. If he was going to ask, he better make it good.
It wasn’t big. It wasn’t grand or especially beautiful. You had been baking together all afternoon: flour all over the place, a small pile of chocolate chips that you’d “accidentally dropped” on the counter and were snacking on, cookies in the oven making the kitchen smell all warm and cosy. The echoes of your laughs and playful banter still lingered in the room. An Etta James album was playing in the background — Harry’s choice, of course. You were bending in front of the oven to check on the cookies. 
“They’re looking good, H,” you said, gazing at them.
“Y/N,” he said from behind you.
“I think we’ve got a perfect batch on our hands.” You straightened up, reaching over to swipe a couple more chocolate chips from the shrinking pile. “Better than last time, those were all hard and —”
“Darling,” he said, a bit more firmly.
“Yeah?” You turned around, sucking on the chocolate, and froze.
There was Harry, on one knee on the kitchen floor, holding a little box and smiling gently up at you.
“Hi,” was all you managed to breathe out, once you regained the ability to move.
“Hello,” he said, smile growing. He cleared his throat. “I love you so much, you know?”
“Harry, you’ve got flour on your nose.”
“Do I?” He was grinning widely now, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he tried not to laugh. “I’ll fix that later, love, got something more important to do right now.”
“Okay.” Your voice was shaking slightly.
He chuckled, and then took a deep breath to steady himself. “Y/N. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make my days better, every day. Most gorgeous, funniest, kindest, sweetest girl I ever met. You’re so fucking amazing — sorry, I shouldn’t swear. Probably ruins the moment.”
“It doesn’t,” you said quickly. You could feel tears threatening to prickle at your eyes. “Keep going.”
“Nothing’s going to stop me, angel,” he promised. He set his face, playing at being very somber. “I really need to ask you something.”
You bit your lip through a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. ‘Cause every day I wake up and hug you and I think to myself that I never want to let go of you. Ever.” 
You nodded, unable to speak for fear that you would just collapse from how unbelievably sweet he is.
“Y/N,” he said, finally. He took a deep breath and pulled open the lid of the little box, and there was your ring. His smile returned to his face again, bright and dimpled and so Harry you nearly starting sobbing right there. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” You were saying it before he even finished his sentence. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—” and you kept saying it until he was back on his feet and had swept you up in the tightest hug, pulling you into his chest and spinning both of you around. 
You clutched at the front of his fuzzy sweater and pulled him into a kiss that made the world feel like it was shifting. Because it had. Everything had changed now. It felt like the two of you had taken the world and cracked it open like a walnut, finding a completely new kind of life inside. A kind of life where you both completely, irrevocably, belonged to each other.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he rubbed his flour-covered nose over yours, then pecked another kiss on your cheek. “Got flour all over you, love.”
“Best go take a shower, then,” you said to him, grinning.
He raised his eyebrows, that mischievous glint in his eye that you so adored appearing. “Yeah? Okay, whatever my beautiful fiancee wants.” He let you take his hand and start to pull him toward the bathroom, before he suddenly jerked you back, making you stumble into his chest. “Shit,” he murmured. “Give me your hand, darling.”
“Oh.” You held out your left hand, and gently he slid the ring onto your finger.
He looked up at you, eyes shining. “Can’t believe I nearly forgot the most important part.”
“Me too. Silly goose.” 
He snorted, and you leaned forward to kiss him again. He held his hands to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. He was warm, his embrace firm, his mouth gentle. Tasting him, the sweetness of the cookie dough he had been stealing out of the bowl, the vanilla of the lip balm he used — you could have lived in that kiss forever. Any kiss, really. You weren’t picky when it came to Harry. But he pulled back, and ran his hands down to the back of your thighs.
“Jump, darling,” he whispered, and he pulled you up to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms looped behind his neck. He pressed his lips to yours again, then carried you to the bathroom, your giggles echoing through the house.
He got on his knees for you again in the shower — “Wanna treat my fiancee like a proper gentleman” —  with your leg thrown over his shoulder, your hand with the ring in his hair, your head thrown back against the tiled wall. He was always good (outstanding in the field, you would joke) but somehow today he was better. Like he was trying to tell you something just by the way he licked up your folds and sucked on your sensitive little bud until you were shaking and your hand tightened in his hair in a way that was surely painful. Like he was trying to show you just how much he loved you, as if everything else wasn’t already enough.
Later, you opened up the expensive bottle of champagne you’d been saving and split it over the takeout he had ordered over the phone in a rush while your hands were slowly creeping down his bare chest and playing with the waistband of the sweatpants he had thrown on after the shower. You ate outside. It was a pleasant night and as stars started to dust over the sky, you were sure they were shining just a little bit brighter.
And when you finally made it into bed, he was immediately over you, his arms snaking underneath you and hugging you to his chest while he thrust into you, deep and passionate. He had his head buried in your neck, his moans vibrating into your skin and you knew he was feeling more than just the physical. It was beyond that for both of you. Treasure this moment, you kept thinking. Keep this day safe forever.
You came together. As he got close, his steady rhythm starting to falter, he grabbed your left hand and pushed it down into the mattress, so you could feel the ring pressing into your skin. That was what sent the both of you over the edge.
Sleep came easily, your limbs still tangled together, your ring lying on the bedside table because you were scared to sleep with it. Harry must have fallen asleep after you — as you dozed off, you could hear the rustling of his pillow as he kept turning his head to look at the ring glinting in the full moon’s light coming through the window. His strong arm wrapped around you, holding you close, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.
“I’m so fucking happy,” he says now, in the morning, quietly, breaking the silence that had descended over you. He says it like it could be the last sentence he ever speaks. A neat epilogue.
You look at him, your arm still raised in the air between you. His eyes are trained on the diamond, and you could swear his eyes are sparkling just as much as the jewel is. He blinks, and glances back to you. “So, so fucking happy.”
“Me too,” you tell him. You let your hand drop, finding his and intertwining your fingers. “Love being engaged.” The word rolls off your tongue easily, and that was thrilling. You’re engaged. “’S better than I imagined. Better than anything else, ever.”
“Mm,” he hums, running his thumb over the ring, and then along the empty space of your finger just below it. “I think it just keeps getting better from here, love.”
.                               .                           .                               .                           .
hope you enjoyed!! i wrote this in barely two hours around midnight (obviously with at last by etta james playing in the background) because i just had to get this concept onto a page. it’s only been very lightly edited so if there were mistakes or it was structured messily ........ sorry. but i am just so in love with these very domestic, un-grandiose proposals because the important thing is the love between the two rather than the big displays... yeah. anyway hope you liked and if you want to send me a request or just chat, my askbox is very much open!!!
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hopelesshunny · 3 years
Text
the love languages part ii: physical touch (f.w.)
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred has always felt the need to touch y/n and after a drunken night he realizes he can't sleep without her.
warnings: very, very light profanity, drinking/underage drinking, kissing, bed sharing.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: my second instalment is here - i did in fact say i would wait until monday but i was really excited to write this one!! i am so grateful for all the love i have received on this series so far, i cannot thank you guys enough. i still feel like i have a ways to go in improving my writing - but as always my ask is open if you have comments, questions, concerns, luv or just wanna chat:)
*all photos are from pinterest*
series masterlist // part i // part iii // part iv
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For as long as Y/N had known Fred he had always been touchy. Fred’s need to constantly touch her was never unwelcomed, she relished in the way he’d wrap an arm around her shoulders when he’d walk her to class or how he’d lean into her when he laughed uncontrollably. However, she had always assumed that he was like this with everyone he was friends with, that he just needed to touch people in some way in order to feel close to them. This was very true but Y/N never knew that it was her touch that he craved the most, that as soon as he saw her, he longed to feel the soft skin of her cheek, the way her shoulders shook when she laughed or the rise and fall of her chest while he laid on her stomach in the common room, gentle sighs leaving her mouth every so often.
Fred couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times he almost told Y/N his feelings for her, the words sat on his tongue so often that he was starting to believe that they felt more comfortable in his mouth which is why they never launched themselves into the air. He didn’t know why he couldn’t force the confession out, there was always just a cloud of doubt and fear that swarmed his mind whenever the thought presented itself. But alas, here he was sitting across from her watching her flip her hair over her shoulder and let out a light laugh as she found whatever George was saying quite amusing.
“Y/N! You have to come, you literally can’t miss a party like this!” George practically shouted, a shocked look on his face.
“I’m so behind on my studies.” Y/N started, resting her chin on her hands. “I’ll be practically chained to the library all weekend as is, I can’t go to a party.”
“Y-You’re not coming tonight?” Fred questioned, his eyes hopeful as if he had heard the conversation wrong.
“Sorry Freddie.” She pouted. “You can tell me all about it at breakfast tomorrow.” At that Fred reached across the table to run his finger across her knuckles, relishing in the way her skin felt under his calloused fingertip, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how they would feel against his lips. However, he was pulled out of his daydream by the sound of George making gagging noises to the side of him as Y/N giggled.
“In that case I’ll have to drink a little extra.” He threw a wink her way. “To make sure I don’t bore you back to sleep tomorrow morning.”
“You never bore me, Trouble.” She smiled before saying her goodbyes to the rest of the table and making her way to the library. The nickname brought a gentle smile to his face, it was the first thing she’d ever called him. During her first year Y/N had been studying in the common room when the twins busteled in, laughing and hollering about another successful prank. When she asked what they were so excited about, the two boys were more than happy to explain, Fred wildly acting out the look on Snape’s face before George asked her name and introduced himself in response. Before Fred even had the chance to open his mouth to follow suit she stopped him.
“You sound like trouble, that’s what I’ll call you.”
George laughed at his twins new-found nickname but it made Fred’s heart swell - the fact that she had specifically given him a special name, the smile on her face when she said it and the way she never left their side since that day, produced a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Now, here he was, years later, with the same girl, same nickname, same smile and the same butterflies.
Fred kept his promise to Y/N, he was drunk, very, very drunk. He stumbled through the Gryffindor common room, his feet feeling like they were trying to carry him off in different directions until he finally found an armchair to ground himself with. Plopping himself down into the chair he looked out into the crowd of people, some laughing others whispering, couples hanging off each other, it made him miss Y/N. If she was here she’d be sitting next to him, his arm slung around her shoulder as she giggled over the way he slurred his words and she’d always made sure he got to bed safely before finding her way to her own room. Fred groaned as George sat in the chair across from him, pushing a glass of water towards him, causing his twin to chuckle at his annoyed state.
“At least you’ll have something funny to tell Y/N in the morning.” He laughed. “Tell her all about how your drunk ass could barely walk straight.” Fred leaned his head back on his neck.
“I should go see her.” He spoke quietly, just loud enough to convince himself of the idea but hopefully not loud enough for George to hear. He knew that his drunken state failed him however, when his brother quirked an eyebrow at him.
“And do what? Spill your guts?” George chuckled. “Either by finally telling her you’re bloody in love with her or literally?” This earned another groan from Fred as he shot daggers at him.
“That’s it.” Fred started, chugging the glass of water that was placed in front of him. “I’m going.”
“Best of luck mate.” George spoke as he watched Fred stumble his way through the crowd.
“Where’s he going?” Ron asked, suddenly appearing by his brother's side.
“On a death mission.” George responded.
Fred let out a sigh of relief when he finally made his way out of the common room and began the trek towards her dorm room. But his mind was running rampant, what if George was right? What if he was just better off going to bed? Maybe she wouldn’t want to see him, she was probably tired from studying all night and the last thing she wanted was him keeping her up. But despite his doubts his feet still carried him towards her, the walk was sobering, which he would need if he planned on getting a coherent sentence out when he finally made his way to her.
“Y/N?” He called softly when he opened her room door, trying his very best to keep quiet to not wake her roommates. He recognized her frame immediately, bundled under bed sheets, her hair messy and lips slightly parted. He stood over her, watching the way her chest rose and fell as soft breathes left her mouth. “Y/N.” He spoke again, shoving his hands in his pockets, fearing her reaction to his sudden visit. Her eyes shot open but when they found his, her face softened, a small smile forming.
“You scared me, Trouble.” She laughed lightly. “Are you okay?” She asked, the concern that laced her voice made him have to restrain from kissing every square inch of her face.
“I’m okay, just a little drunk.” He hiccuped, his response earning a bright smile from her as she scooted to the side and patted the bed, signially for him to sit next to her. He graciously accepted her offer, his hand immediately finding her knee, needing to touch her. She leaned into his touch as he slurred on about how Ron tried to flirt with Hermione but failed miserably and how red Harry turned when George dared him to kiss Ginny. Neither of them could remember falling asleep, they were too caught up in each other's whispered stories and soft giggles.
When Fred woke the next morning, his head pounding, his legs feeling as if they had carried him across the entire country, he looked down to find his best friend fast asleep on his chest. Y/N’s arms were wrapped tightly around his middle with his hand tangled in her hair as she shifted slightly on top of him. He felt like he should panic and apologize for last night’s antics but she looked so peaceful and he was so close to her that he couldn’t bring himself to worry about barging into her room at who knows what time.
“Mornin’ Trouble.” She spoke, her voice groggy and flooded with sleep. “How are you feeling?” She asked genuinely, pulling herself from his embrace to stretch her arms above her head, making him curse himself for ever moving and waking her.
“I’ve been much better.” He groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Guess I don’t have to fill you in on last night's events at breakfast anymore.”
“No, you did a sufficient job of that last night.” She giggled. “But we can still go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Y/N pulled him out of her bed, still fully clothed in what he was wearing the night before.
He grumbled his way through breakfast as George and Ron cracked jokes about how drunk and lovesick he was, Fred throwing warning looks their way as Y/N laughed seeming unbothered by the way they were pulling her into they’re jokes, taking it all as a way to poke fun at Fred. But his head was still swimming, the feeling of her weight on top of him and her hands pressed against his chest, all he wanted was to be back in that position again. He couldn’t get it out of his head for the rest of the day and no matter how many times he attempted to distract himself from her that night as he lied in bed his mind kept travelling back to Y/N. He lay awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how empty his arms felt without her in them - she was addicting, he had always known that, since the moment he met her he had not been able to pull himself away from her. But now he was in too deep, he needed to be there with her.
So, here he was, in his pyjamas, on his way to her dorm room once again, all shame and guilt left long behind, just needing to be near her. Fred padded into her room, his hands rooted in his pockets once again, fully expecting to have to wake her just as he did the night before. But she was wide awake, sitting on her bed, a novel clasped in her fingers, a smile forming on her face when he came into her line of vision.
“Did you miss me?” She teased, as he ran a hand through his hair, rocking on his heels.
“Can’t sleep.” He mumbled. “Was wondering if you were still up.” He said, offering her a grin.
“Well then Trouble, you’re in luck.” She smirked, moving to allow space for him to lie next to her. Fred laid his head in her lap as she turned her attention back to the book in her hand while the other snaked its way into his hair. All the trouble sleeping that had been previously plaguing him melted away with her nails lightly scratching his scalp.
Over the course of the next week Fred and Y/N fell into this routine, he would lay away in his bed before eventually giving into the knowledge that he could not sleep without her any longer before he would make his way to her room, crawl into bed beside her and fall into the soundest sleep that has ever graced him. In the beginning, he was apprehensive, worried that she would reject him at some point and tell him that she wanted to sleep alone. But she never did, every night she shot him a warm smile and opened her arms to him. As the week went on his worries morphed themselves into something new however, he was no longer concerned about her rejecting his company but that she would instead reject his feelings for her. That she would eventually realize that he was in love with her and tell him that she never felt that way about him and was just trying to be a good friend.
“I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore.” Fred spoke into the darkness of the room, his voice audibly shaking, the silence that filled the space causing his stomach to turn.
“Mhmm.” Y/N started, tightening her grasp on him. “I can’t complain, you’re a great pillow.” He let out a light laugh, rubbing small circles in her back.
“It’s true.” He spoke, more seriously. “I haven’t been able to sleep at all lately, but as soon as I get into your bed, I’m out.” She sighed. “They must have better beds in the girls dorms.” He added, which earned a giggle from her.
“I don’t know about the quality of the beds, maybe it’s who's in it.” She spoke, her voice quiet as she bit her lip now regretting her sudden burst of confidence. Fred was silent for a moment before he spoke, a deep breath filling his lungs before he had the nerve to confess to her.
“I always thought that the reason I always had to touch you was because I liked to feel close to people. But it’s different with you.” He shifted to look at her. “I need to touch you, need to feel your skin. Fuck Y/N, I just want to hold your hand in front of everybody and kiss you in between classes and fall asleep next to you every night.” He searched her face looking for any sense of emotion but all he could find was her typical soft smile. “It’s just that I-I-” He started.
“I love you too Fred.” She cut him off, placing her palm against his cheek, he turned into her touch despite the shock that was lacing his features.
“You what?” He said, a giggle falling from her mouth as she clasped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to save him some pride.
“The first night you came to my room, after you left the party, you kept saying you loved me in your sleep.” He groaned at her confession. “I was worried it was just drunk babbles but-”
“But I do love you.” He finished. “I’ve loved you for years.”
“I love you too, Trouble.” She giggled, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.
taglist (join here!!)
@onlyfreds @fandomhideout @lilypad-55449 @youngblood199456 @thanxxskz
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anyoneseenadam · 3 years
Note
i just read your fenrys fic and omg it’s so so good!!! i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you could write a fenrys smut? ur smut pieces always hit different and ur one of the only people that i’ve found that writes for him
pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)
warnings: lots of smut, like this is filthy, lil bit ddlg dynamic but defo dom/sub overtones, daddy kink, spit kink, creampie, size kink, praise kink, degredation, bulge kink, overstimulation, not proof read so may have grammar errors sorry :))
a/n: okay my kinks rlly jumped out phew. this is pure filth but I hope you enjoy!! also thank you, fenrys is my fave and I think you can tell <33 (also Fenrys is the only character I would let baby me the rest can choke) (jkjk love them but still)
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“Gods you smell so good,” Fenrys breathed in your ear, his voice rough and deep as his hands circled around your waist.
“Daddy, we’re in public,” you complained leaning back into his arms as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck.
“I know baby, we should get home soon. I can smell your panties getting wet, what are you thinking about huh?” you whined as he pulled away, his bulking size no longer pressed against your back as he pulled you away from the stall of rings you had been looking at. You grabbed his hand in both of yours and followed, tugging his hand so he would slow his pace, your legs not keeping up with his long strides.
“You daddy,” you answered meekly, and he grinned down at you, the sight of his canines making you whimper as you thought of the bite marks trailing your inner thighs.
“Good girl,” he whispered into your hair as he tugged you into his side, pressing a kiss to your head and keeping you tucked in tight as the two of you walked home.
The house you lived in was a sharp contrast to the palaces your friends lived in. It was a small stone cottage with a thatched roof and big garden, filled with vegetables, plants and flowers. Along with the cherry blossom tree the two of you had planted after the war, the sight always making you smile. Inside the cottage was the soft, book-filled, and blanket covered interior of your dreams. Everything was in shades of baby pink, sage green or brown, with hand knitted, crème-coloured blankets and homemade scented candles. There were also many crystals dotted about the house, your wolf an avid believer in the power of the moon, while you simply turned to them for comfort and strength.
Today as you entered your haven however you didn’t get a chance to breathe in the rustic, flowery smell, barely finding time to pull off your boots and long coat before Fenrys was throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you through to the bedroom.
You were thrown on your bed, landing on the plush pink cushions with a squeal and a laugh when the bed springs squeaked. Fenrys was quick to climb over you, covering your body with his as he kissed you deeply, his right thigh pushing between yours. You mewled and started rutting into his thigh, desperate for some relief, barely able to go a day without touching your mate anymore.
Fenrys cooed at you, “So desperate for me aren’t you baby, do you need daddy to help you?”
You nodded, crying out as he pressed his thigh harder against your covered cunt. “Need you so bad daddy!” you whined, and he chuckle, kissing away your pout as you clung to his neck.
“Patience little one, let’s get you undressed first,” he pulled off you abruptly and you whined as he picked you up, so you were standing, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You were quick to pull off you clothes, hands fumbling with the back of your dress until Fenrys unzipped it for you, when you were just in your bra and panties he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you deeply again. You trailed your hands over his expansive chest, feeling his impressive muscles and rutting in his lap slightly as you moved to straddle him. You kissed for a few more minutes, Fenrys tongue completely dominating your own as he groped your ass greedily with one hand and tangled the other in your hair, tugging lightly when you moved too much.
“Lie down baby, daddy’s gonna eat that sweet pussy now,” he said, and you moaned into his mouth, hastily moving back, and lying on top of the white blanket you had knitted pink hearts into. He smiled at you as he moved between your legs, slowly pulling your panties down and bringing them to his nose, inhaling your scent.
“Daddy don’t its embarrassing!” you exclaimed but he silenced you with a look,
“You never need to be embarrassed in front of me bunny, you know this,” he told you off and you frowned, nodding as he threw the panties away. He spread your legs for him, hooking the left over his shoulder as he moved in closer and smiled at the sight of your glistening pussy on display for him.
“So pretty baby,” he cooed, and you smiled, not forgetting your manners.
“Thank you daddy.” He smiled up at you before leaning in a licking a stripe up your pussy with a flat tongue making you squeal. He started sucking on your clit gently, easing you into it as he kept your legs spread with huge hands. His teeth ran over your clit gently and you moaned loudly, knowing he liked it when you were responsive for him and made the sounds he wished he could lap up.
Your hands fisted the soft bedsheets as he moved down, his tongue probing into your tight hole as his index finger came up and started rubbing soft circles on your clit. His thick tongue worked into you and he moaned at your taste, wishing he could bottle it and get drunk of you every night. The vibrations went through you like shock waves, and you cried out, grabbing his golden hair in your fist as your hips bucked up, legs shaking.
He pulled back, pressing kisses into your thighs, his lips and chin glistening with your essence, but he was soon diving back in and eating you like a man starved. He went back in with increased vigour, slurping at your folds and trying to drink from your endless supply of nectar. The thumb that had been making soft circles on your clit moved down and he pressed a finger into you, his cold hands creating a sharp contrast with your hot core. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you with a distinctive squelching sound.  
“Daddy!” you cried out as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch hurting only for a second or two until pleasure took over your body, “Daddy, I’m going to come, please please can I come?” you begged, hips jolting as he dragged your clit between his teeth.
“Mmm wait baby,” he commanded, and you gripped the sheets tighter under your hand, your head thrashing from side to side as you held back from cumming. Fenrys added a third finger making you scream as he pumped them harshly in and out of your pussy, lips never releasing your clit from it’s beautiful torment.
You could feel your body heating up and you got nervous, never liking to come until you were allowed, Fenrys made it very clear that you weren’t allowed to do that, but you were struggling to hold on.
“Daddy! I need to come please! I can’t hold it,” you sobbed as he pulled his lips from your clit, replacing them with the rough pad of his thumb.
“Cum then baby, I wanna taste you,” he smirked as you mewled, legs shaking as you clenched around his fingers, cumming all over his hand with a silent scream. Fenrys pulled his fingers from you but continued to lap at your abused pussy until you were pushing his head away, too overstimulated.
When Fenrys sat up he smiled down at your worn out form, cock hard and straining against his boxers as he licked your essence clean from his fingers. He pulled his boxers down and discarded them, gaining your attention as you reached a small hand to his cock, wrapping your dainty fingers around it and pumping slowly. He moaned and enjoyed your touch for a few minutes before he was pulling back, settling between your legs and pushing into your tight hole, the two of you groaning as he slid to the base.
You felt so full, his huge cock pushing just right against your walls, your pussy hugging him so tightly as he began rutting into you.
“Fuck, I forgot how good you were for daddy. Hmm? Just his little slut, his little baby, you’ll let me take you whenever won’t you.” You babbled out pleas, unable to form a thought as he started pounding you into the mattress, “Look at you, such a good baby, so good for me. Always hug me just right, keep me so warm babygirl.”
“Daddy I need…” you cried but Fenrys cut you off.
“I know what you need and right now it’s to take my cock like the good little girl you are.” His hips were hitting your at a bruising pace while one hand came to tug your tits out of your bra, pulling it down just enough to free them to him as he reached down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, tugging at it with his teeth. Your legs were wrapped around his lean waist and with every thrust his pubic bone rutted against your clit making you cry out.
“Are you going to come already baby? Can feel you clenching around me, so needy just a cock drunk slut,” he pounded into you and you sobbed, pleasure taking over your body.
“I’m going to come daddy!” you cried out.
“Do it baby, let go. I want to feel you soak me,” he demanded, and you fell apart around him. your back arched of the bed and your hands clawed at him back as you released over his dick, cunt pulsing around him and tightening even more than it already was.
He slowed his thrusts but didn’t pull out as you came down from your high, rolling over onto his back so you were sat on his cock. You looked at him with wide eyes at the change in position, his cock being pushed impossibly deeper into you and making you mewl.
His gaze trailed down your body as he removed your bra, stopping when he saw a bulge in your stomach, cooing at you. “Oh baby, you poor thing, I’m all the way in you, can you feel me that deep bunny?”
You nodded at him, unable to form coherent sentences as you struggled to stay upright on his cock. “C’mon baby, bounce for me hmm? Ride me baby I know you can.”
You tried to lift your hips, only pulling halfway up before you sank back down, crying out from the overstimulation.
“You can do better than that baby,” he urged you on and you tried again, pushing up with your hands splayed on his chest, tits in his face. This time you managed a few more thrusts before you were practically collapsing onto his chest.
“Such a dumb baby, so cock drunk can’t do anything without daddy’s help.” Fenrys was smiling at your worn out form as he bent his knees, digging his heels into the mattress and wrapping his huge arms around your form, holding you close as he started fucking into you roughly.
The constant pounding of his hips was all you could think of, your mind completely blank. You were completely consumed by him, his smell, the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his rough, callused hands rubbing over your back and the fullness that came from being stuffed with his cock. You were soaking wet, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the bed and the smell of your essence was everywhere, driving Fenrys insane as he forced your body up and down his cock.
Your body had turned to putty as he used you as he pleased, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got nearer his release, the clenching of your pussy giving away that you were just as close.
“I’m gonna come baby, gonna fill you up till I’m leaking out of you, I wanna watch you leak me, wanna feel it.” you moaned into his ear at his crude words.
“Do it daddy! Fill me up please!” you sobbed out as you came around his cock, crying out as he slammed into you one final time. You felt his cum fill you, leaking out of you and down his cock as the two of you tried to catch your breaths after your powerful, bone shaking orgasms.
You looked up from your place on Fenrys chest and smiled softly at him as you leaned up to kiss him sweetly in thanks.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered against your lips and you giggled. He shifted and slowly pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of contact. He stood and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wiping himself down before kneeling in front of you and wiping you down too. He pressed a final peck to your pussy and you let out a breathy whimper, reaching out to him with grabby hands as he pulled on a pair of boxers before climbing back into bed, falling asleep with your head on his chest, content.
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Text
This is the second part of a request someone asked for (the first part is here). As I stated in the other part, I absolutely love Baekhyun so I got really into writing this 😂😅. First my heart went 🥵🤤🔥 then it went 🥺💞🥰 so get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions :) (part 1)
⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!college fuckboy!Baekhyun, fem!dom!reader, pegging, degradation, spanking, mommy kink, VERY rough sex, and VERY fluffy aftercare.
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Love? (Part 2)
Baekhyun let out a loud whimper into your mouth as you slammed him against the wall in your hallway. The kiss was intense, teeth clashing together as your tongues fought for dominance even though you both knew who would win. You only pulled away for a second to pull his shirt over his head before he leaned forward to kiss you again. You let out a surprised grunt, pulling away slightly to giggle at his enthusiasm. 
     "Eager, aren't you? Didn't realize you missed me that much." He whined rolling his hips into yours as you leaned down to leave more marks over his tanned skin. He wrapped his arms around your neck, one of his hands grabbing a handful of your hair to lightly tug on.
     "Fuck mommy, I missed you so so much! God- I haven't been fucked since you!" He breathily whimpered out. You let out a low growl as he led your hands to squeeze his ass. "O-oh god- I'm so tight for you mommy.~" He murmured in your ear.
     "Fuck. You missed being mommy's mindless cockslut so much, didn't you baby? Missed mommy's cock absolutely destroying that tight hole of yours?" He threw his head back, moaning loudly at the low growl in your voice. He nodded rapidly, his mind so clouded over with lust he couldn't form coherent sentences. A deep moan escaped you as you gripped his thighs with a bruising force, wrapping his legs around your waist so you could carry him to your bedroom. As soon as his feet were off the ground, he cupped your face in his hands to bring you into another heated kiss. 
     You kicked your bedroom door closed behind you, slamming Baekhyun onto the bed as soon as you felt your knees hit the side of the mattress. You crawled between his legs, pinning his hands on either side of his head before pulling away from his lips to catch your breath. You bit your lip to hold in a moan at the beautiful sight beneath you.
     Baekhyun's eyes were lidded and dark with lust as he panted for breath. His lips were bruised and swollen with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. There were love bites on his neck from your short make out session at the party earlier, with more forming down his chest. His dick was so hard it looked painful, straining against the fabric of his pants. The silence was interrupted by Baekhyun whining needily, bucking his hips up in a futile attempt to get friction. 
     "C'moooon, stop staring and fuck me already." A loud smack sounded through the room, followed by a yelp from the squirming boy beneath you.
     "Don't catch an attitude with me, slut. You know if you want something you have to beg for it." He smirked at your harsh glare, squirming to get out of your hold. He whimpered as you slapped his thigh again. "Stop moving around, unless you want me to tie you up." He immediately stopped moving, pouting his lips adorably. You smiled pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. "Much better, now get on your stomach." His eyes lit up as you stripped to your underwear before walking to your closet, returning shortly after with your strap-on and a bottle of lube. He flipped over onto his stomach, wiggling his ass as you stood behind him. He moaned as you slapped his ass before pulling off his pants, groaning as you saw he wasn't wearing any underwear. You leaned down so you were whispering in his ear as you massaged his ass.
     "Fuck- such a dirty little whore, couldn't even be bothered to put on any boxer's huh?" He giggled, pushing his ass back into your hands. "I bet you would've gone home with anyone, wouldn't you? A filthy little slut like you would do anything to get your dick touched." He whimpered as he gripped the sheets, burying his face in a pillow to muffle the moan he let out when you dug your nails into his flesh. You grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it back so his face was directly next to yours as you landed a harsh slap to his ass. 
     "You know better than to hide your slutty noises from me babyboy. Ya know, with how desperate you were to have my cock inside of you earlier, you're acting like an awfully naughty boy." A shiver ran down his spine at the low growl in your voice. You stood up straight, lubing up your cock before spreading his cheeks to line up with his hole. A breathy moan left his lips as he pushed his hips back, trying to push the tip of your strap into him. You gripped his hips to hold him still before hitting him one more time. He released a high pitched moan as the sound echoed around the room. 
     "What did I say about moving slut?" You scoffed. "I should just tell you to get dressed and get out since you're acting like such a fucking brat." He whined at your words, scared you might actually kick him out. A moan ripped out of his throat as you suddenly thrusted the strap-on inside of him, the burn of being stretched out so suddenly almost bringing tears to his eyes. "You're lucky I'm so nice." Though you angrily growled out your words, you waited for a minute so he could somewhat adjust to the size of your cock before you began to move your hips. 
     His loud moans and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly around the room. You moved the angle of your hips, searching for his prostate. You smirked as you heard Baekhyun let out a loud, high pitched moan, knowing you had found your target. You thrusted into him harder, aiming directly for his prostate with every thrust. Baekhyun was sobbing in pleasure at this point, the overwhelming pleasure of your cock making him see stars. You tangled your fingering in his hair, pulling him up so his back was flush against your chest. A burning wave of arousal shot through you as you saw tears running down his cheeks, a trail of drool dripping from his chin. 
     "Shit, you're such a little slut for mommy's cock aren't you? No one can fuck you like mommy can, can they?" Baekhyun almost didn't hear your question from the intense pleasure coursing through his body. You gave him a few seconds to collect his thoughts, smirking at the fact you made him feel so good he could barely think straight.
     "F-fuck! N-no! Ngh- Mommy i-is the on-only one who can fuck me th-this good! H-holy fuck! A-AH! O-Oh god! Mommy's cock makes m-me feel so f-full! Fuck fuck f-fuck fuck!" His tongue was hanging out of his mouth as he threw his head back to rest on your shoulder. You chuckled at how fucked out he was, smirking as you watched his red cock twitch and leak all over the bed. 
     "Are you gonna cum for me? Cum like the filthy cumsult you are?" He whimpered loudly, nodding his head as he fought back his orgasm, waiting for your permission. You chuckled, turning to whisper in his ear. "Then go right ahead baby, let everyone know who you belong to." His mind went numb as thick ropes of cum covered the sheets below him, his back arching as he screamed out a moan.
You slowed the pace of your thrusts, laying him down gently so he wouldn't be laying in his own cum. A broken whine left his lips as you slowly pulled out of him, his hole clenching around nothing as he got used to the feeling of being empty again. You quickly removed the strap-on, setting it to the side before picking up Baekhyun and moving him to the window seat so you could change the sheets (your curtains were closed so no one could see him). Once you were done, you moved Baekhyun back to the bed getting in next to him to cuddle him. His eyes finally fluttered open as you brushed some of his hair out of his face. You softly smiled at him as you wrapped your hands around his waist, pulling him closer so you could press a quick kiss to his cheek.
     "You okay baby? I know I went a little rough, especially considering we haven't done anything for a while. I didn't hurt you too bad did I?" He smiled at the concern in your eyes.
     "I'm fi-" his words were interrupted as he suddenly coughed, his vocal cords worn out from how loud he had been screaming. You immediately jumped out of bed to bring him a glass of water. He nodded to you as a silent 'thank you' before drinking the water you gave him. You comfortingly ran your hand up and down his back, eyes filled with concern. You grabbed the empty glass from him, setting it on your bedside drawer before turning back to him. 
     "Are you alright now? Like, really fine?" He chuckled as you ranted about the importance of his health, eyes full of love and admiration before he leaned forward to cut you off with a kiss. Your eyes widened in shock as his plush lips moved against yours before fluttering closed, your hand moving to the back of his head to keep his lips pressed to yours. This kiss was soft, gentle, and passionate, unlike the kisses you usually shared in the heat of the moment. His hand was cupping your jaw, thumb tracing circles over your cheek. You felt small tingling shocks everywhere his skin met yours. Your eyes were still closed in bliss once he had pulled away. His soft chuckle made you open your eyes to see his dorky grin and flushed cheeks. 
     "W-woah… what was that f-" 
     "I love you." It seemed like your world froze as those three words left his mouth. He noticed your hesitance and panicked. "I-I know that's extremely selfish of me and I really don't deserve you but it's true. You're the only one who's ever really taken care of me, and really paid attention to how I felt. I-I totally understand if you don't feel the same way anymore, s-since I acted like such an asshole but- mpfh!" He was surprised to feel your lips suddenly against his, but you pulled away before his brain could comprehend what was happening. You smiled brightly at him, giggling at the dazed expression on his face.
     "You really like cutting me off don't you?" He blinked a couple of times before looking you in the eyes. "I still love you, you moron. I really really tried to forget about you, but there's something about you that's just so addicting to me. Jongin could see it and, even if I tried to fight it, so could I." He sat there silently for a moment, letting your words sink in before that dorky smile that you loved so much lit up his face and he pounced on you. A small shriek of surprise left your lips before he was suddenly kissing you again. He giggled against your lips before pulling away to smile down at you. 
     "So, correct me if I'm wrong, but this makes me your boyfriend now, right?" You laughed and rolled your eyes at his silly question.
     "Yes, now shut up and kiss me you moron." You said before grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him into another kiss.
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bitchin-beskar · 4 years
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Unavoidable Consequences Part 2
Rating: M (sexual situations, cursing) 18+ ONLY please!
Word Count: 2.2k of pure smut! that’s literally all this is! 
A/N: Immediately after writing the request for @din-damn-djarin, I knew I was gonna write a second part. No lie. I love Javi, and getting to write for him is so much fun, so... here we go!!! And for @wickedfrsgrl, who specifically requested that I do a Part 2 so that I can “show those fuckers that Javi can grand slam it home” (honestly thank u for this amazing comment I fucking died when I read it), I hope I don’t disappoint! 
Warning! Features unprotected sex! This is fanfic kiddos, which means it’s not real. Whenever you’re doing the do, wrap it up please! Be safe and responsible!
Tagging: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @mrschiltoncat, @goblinqueen95, @pedrosdoll 
I tried tagging people who’d responded to Part 1 saying they’d be interested in a Part 2, but I’m sure I probably missed some people. If you’re interested in being tagged in any future works, please please please fill out this survey! It would really help me out so that I don’t miss anyone!
No. 
No, you most certainly weren’t done. 
The tension between you and Javi had been steadily growing the longer you’d been partners, and now that you’d had a taste of each other, neither of you wanted to stop. 
Javi had a very dominating personality, and oh it showed, in the way he kissed you, the way he held you down and devoured you, the way he pinned you to the bed. 
You moaned as Javi tore his mouth from yours, only to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck. Panting, you begged Javi for more. 
“Oh, fuck, please Javi, please, I need more, I need–” Your pleas cut off as Javi sank his teeth into the skin where your neck met your shoulder, causing you to cry out. 
“FUCK! Javi, please, I need you to touch me,” you whimper, pulling frantically at your restrained hands, wanting desperately to touch him. He releases you, and immediately your hands fly to tangle in his hair, pulling him back up and into another kiss. 
Javi’s hands aren’t idle, however. He’s busy toying with the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it up, and he pulls away from your mouth in order to yank your shirt over your head. 
Even though there’s no more light in the room than when you woke, you can see Javi’s eyes darken as he stares, entranced, at your chest. You’ve always known what Javi thought of your breasts. He wasn’t exactly subtle whenever you were forced to wear more formal clothes to work, and you always noticed whenever he struggled to keep his eyes level with yours during conversations. 
But now, laying underneath him in bed, shirtless, Javi could stare as long as he wanted.
“Shit, compañera, you’re fucking gorgeous.” 
You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment, but before you can stutter out a response, Javi leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples.
“Shiiiiiiiiit,” you groan, your back arching, unconsciously trying to get closer to the absolutely divine sensations that Javi’s laving on your breasts. “Oh my god, Javier–”
Releasing you with a wet pop, Javi looks up at you with hooded eyes. “That’s it baby,” he croons, nipping at your bare skin with his teeth while maintains eye contact. “Tell the whole fucking world who’s making you feel good.”
A shudder runs through your body at the dark tone of Javi’s voice, so demanding, so sinful. “Goddammit Javier, please, I need you.” Your voice is unsteady, and needy, nothing like you’ve ever sounded before. What can you do, though? Javier Peña just seems to bring out the worst–or best, depending on the point of view–in you.
“What do you need, baby? Hmm?” Javi’s tone is bordering on sadistic as he plays dumb, pretending that he doesn’t know exactly what you need. You groan in frustration, your hips gyrating, desperate for friction.
“Use your words, pretty girl.”
“Fuck me!” You gasp, no longer entirely in control of the words leaving your lips. “God, please Javi, I need you to fuck me, I need it, I–”
You cut off with a gasp as Javi grinds his hips roughly against yours, the fabric of his boxers doing little to hide his straining erection. 
“Yeah? Is this what you need, baby? You need my cock?” Javi’s voice is positively dripping with seductive tones, even though you’re already writhing underneath him on the bed. “I’ve already given you one orgasam, and you want more?” 
Javi maintains eye contact as he leans down and bites down gently on your nipple, the sting causing you to squirm under him, inadvertently grinding against him. “God, you’re so fucking greedy, compañera. Just begging me to fuck you.” 
His teeth nip at your sensitive bud again, this time soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue. You’re breathless, but you force yourself to speak.
“Goddamnit, Javier, if you don’t fuck me, right. fucking. now. then I might actually kill you,” you gasp, frantically pulling at his shirt–seriously, how the fuck is this man still fully clothed? 
“You want me to fuck you?” 
You glare at your partner as he sits back, a smirk on his lips, pulling his shirt off over his head, throwing it somewhere on the hotel room floor. You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as more and more of Javi’s skin is revealed to you. 
He suddenly lunges forward, gripping your hips and hauling you up the bed. You squeak in surprise, but Javi’s already leaning down to whisper in your ear. 
“Hold onto the headboard, baby. Don’t let go.”
As you’re reaching your hands up to grip at the metal bars of the cheap headboard, Javi’s gripping the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your legs, along with your underwear. 
You barely have time to feel even a flicker of embarrassment before Javi’s body is covering your own, one hand cradling your face as he kisses you desperately. 
His other hand is busy pushing his own pants off, and when he begins to press into you, the moan you let out is positively obscene. If the sicarios happened to be listening right at that moment, there was no doubt as to just what the two of you were doing. 
He pushes steadily into you, and you groan at the sensation, feeling more full than you’ve ever been before. You’d had your fair share of partners before, but already Javi was surpassing every one of them. 
Finally, finally, Javi was completely seated within you, his hips flush against yours. His forehead came to rest against yours, his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Fuck,” he groaned, his arms trembling with the strain from holding still. 
Your own mouth had fallen open, the air wrenched from your lungs as Javi had pressed deeper and deeper. And even though he’d paused to give you time to adjust, you were rather impatient. 
“Javier,” you breathed, purposefully clenching. “Please, move.”
A strangled groan left Javi’s lips, his hips inadvertently jerking. “Amor, please,” he begged. “I–I can’t, I can’t hold back if you keep–ungh!” He cut off as you clenched again. “I can’t hold back if you keep doing that, compañera.” 
You tightened your grip on the metal bars of the headboard, arching your back so that your breasts pressed against Javi’s chest, bringing his gaze to yours. “I don’t want you to hold back, Javi, I want you to fuck me.” You held his gaze, seeing the conflicting emotions in his eyes, the slight fear that you felt forced to do this just for the sake of your cover lingering. “I’m yours, Javi. Fuck me.” 
He hesitated for only a moment more, but he must have seen the truth in your eyes, the absolute trust you had in him, not with just your life, but now your body. A small smile flitted across his lips. “Well, just remember baby,” Javi’s lips brushed against your ear. “You asked for this.”
Javi suddenly pulled almost completely out, but before you could bemoan the loss, he thrust back in, and the suddenness of the movement made you cry out loudly. 
He set a brutal pace, pulling out quickly before thrusting back in, the movements causing the headboard to slam repeatedly against the wall. A litany of moans and gasps escaped your lips, unable to string together enough words to form a coherent sentence. 
He was fucking you, plain and simple, exactly what you’d asked for, and you couldn’t say you were disappointed. His hips slammed into yours over and over, the wet sounds of flesh smacking against flesh filling the dingy hotel room. 
There was heat quickly pooling in your belly, the coil beginning to tighten. The entire bed was shaking with Javi’s violent movements, and you were practically sobbing as his cock brushed against your sensitive inner walls with each thrust. 
He stopped suddenly, withdrawing from your cunt, leaving you feeling empty. You whimpered at the loss, but before you could ask, he was reaching up and grabbing your wrists, encouraging you to let go of the headboard. 
“On your hands and knees, pretty girl.”
You tried to follow his orders, but you clearly weren’t moving fast enough, as Javi wrapped an arm around you, quickly flipping you over. You nearly collapsed face-first into the pillows, but you caught yourself on your hands at the last second. 
You didn’t have any time to adjust to the change in position as Javi’s hands gripped your waist, pulling your ass up into the air so that your pussy was level with his cock. 
He pushed in, much faster than the first time, and the both of you moaned in unison as he managed to sink even deeper inside you. You didn’t even care about the show you must be putting on for your neighbors, as neither you nor Javi were particularly... quiet, in bed. 
If you’d been staying somewhat professional, you’d probably be trying to think about how the noise the two of you were making was sure to cement your cover as a couple on vacation in Colombia. 
But it was pretty hard to stay professional when Javi was pounding into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips so hard, you were sure you’d have bruises. 
Every thrust pushed you forward, forcing you to rock forward on your hands, and the pleasure shooting up your spine was making your arms go weak. Eventually, you just couldn’t hold yourself up any long, collapsing forward onto the bed, just barely stopping from face-planting in the sheets. 
Javi didn’t stop however. He didn’t even seem to notice that you’d partially collapsed, too focused on giving you exactly what you’d been begging for. 
The coil was tightening again, and it almost shocked you with it’s intensity. You’d never come that close to the peak so soon after an orgasm before, but you couldn’t say that you were surprised that it was Javi who was able to bring you such pleasure. 
One of Javi’s hands left your hip, but before you could lament the loss, he wrapped the arm around you, cupping your breast and pulling you up so that your back was pressed to his chest, and his breath was against your ear.
“How does it feel?” He murmured, his thrusts less violent, but no less deep in this new position. “Your pussy was made for me, pretty girl, so tight, so warm, so fucking perfect,” he grunted, pinching your nipple lightly before trailing his fingers over your sweaty skin, until the palm of his hand rested on your lower belly. 
He pressed against your skin, and you groaned at the strange, but not unwelcome feeling. “Who else makes you feel this good, baby?” 
When you don’t answer right away, he pulled back as much as he could in this position, snapping his hips forward harshly, causing you to cry out. “Who. Else?” He growled.
“No one!” You cried, your whole body trembling. “Only you, Javi!” 
He didn’t answer you, instead choosing to shove you back down onto your hands and knees, pouding into you with a renewed vigor. Before you could really register, you were once again flying over the edge, your whole body trembling with the force of your orgasm.
You think you might’ve cried his name, but you couldn’t be sure, the blood rushing in your ears made it hard to hear much of anything. 
Javi’s thrusts were starting to lose rhythm, and you could tell that he was getting close. You clenched around him, and he groaned, long and low. He leaned forward, once more pushing his chest against your back.
“Fuck, pretty girl, I’m so close, I–” 
You didn’t even let him finish, already knowing what he wanted. You clenched around him again, and his hips stuttered before he moaned, loudly. You felt him release inside you as his teeth sank into your shoulder, trying to stifle his cries. 
Javi slowly fell to the side, keeping you pressed tight against him as he curled up on his side on the bed. His legs tangled with yours, and you felt him still twitching gently inside you. 
One of his arms wrapped tight around your waist, and the other wrapped around your upper chest, keeping you curled in his arms.
“Are you okay?” He whispered, his face buried in your hair. You nodded, wrapping your hands around his wrists, making sure his arms stayed locked around you. 
“I’m more than okay, Javier.” You whispered back, shifting slightly, and grinning at the noise he made behind you. “Do you think they bought it?”
Javi laughed breathlessly, twining his legs with yours. “Compañera, I’m pretty fucking sure all of Colombia bought it.” You can’t see it, but you just know he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face right now. “Every single sicario in the goddamn country knows who you’re fu–” 
You couldn’t exactly smack Javi from your position, so you did the only thing you could to shut him up. 
As he felt your walls clench around him again, he groaned again, cursing lowly under his breath. 
He went to pull away, probably to let you sleep, but you gripped him tight, keeping his arms wrapped around you, and his cock firmly inside you. 
“Just go to sleep, Javi.”
You closed your eyes, grinning as you heard him chuckle. 
“Yes ma’am.”
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shibarirobot · 4 years
Text
Aizawa Fic - CH2 - Entrapment
+18 Only SFW (for now)
Shouta Aizawa x Villain!OC/Reader (?)
CH1
Above is the link to the first chapter that I wrote for this fic. Please read that one first if you havent, but I’ll give a quick summary anyways.
The main character is a villain holding up a bar that seems to have shady activites being facilitated out of it. Their crew is indisposed at the moment. Eraser Head has just shown up. - That’s basically all. Also their quirk has to do with electro magnetic frequencies.
(italics are other characters thoughts)
Enjoy!~
I suck in a breath behind parted lips. I wasn’t expecting this. I know I should be sweating. Someone who won't easily fall prey to my cerebral attacks, but instead I can't help the trace of a smile on my face. A real smile. I might actually get hurt here. Neither of us speak for an extended moment as we assess each other. I’m watching the black hair floating around his head and framing his furrowed brow, when I notice something about myself, the ringing has stopped. The pulse behind my eyes, the one that never stops, has vanished completely. There is a void in my head where the tangle of noise and thoughts had once lived. I’m taken aback and that's all he needs to launch at me. Jumping at me and shooting his capture weapon out to grip my limbs at the same time.
I don’t get the foreboding sense that I usually have, nothing to predict his movements. He’s in my face quicker than I could have imagined, but I’m still quick enough to throw myself backwards immediately. My back hits the wall and it seems as if I’m cornered. A helpless animal caught in a trap. The hardened scarf around his neck didn’t have the chance to grip onto me, yet the material still nicked into the skin at my wrists, drawing warm blood to the surface. I hiss, but am otherwise unfazed. Blood is blood. Nothing I haven’t seen before. My weapon however, skitters to the ground, out of my reach. I look into his eyes, so close and draw my knee up quickly, connecting it with his chin and kicking him away in two quick movements. I don't have much upper body strength, but I have a practiced kick style that works for me when I do have to fight, hence the weighted boots, helps with impact. For the most part I don’t have to use it. My quirk takes care of most of my hero encounters. But this is no encounter, this is a battle with Erasure Head. 
Eraser Head stumbles back slightly, but quickly regains his footing, shifting and lunging at me once more. I push myself off the wall at an angle, hoping to dodge past him to the left, but he’s too fast. His scarf snakes out to the side and wraps up, around my calf. I slam to the ground and grunt, the wind knocked from my lungs. Fuck, I think I heard a crack. I wheeze and roll to my side, pushing myself back onto my feet with one hand. He’s ready for that though. The scarf wrapping around my neck and holding me in the air. I'm completely at his mercy and I can feel my rib throb, I definitely broke one of them. My smirk is back, teasing myself at this precarious situation. My fingers come up and slide across the hard material protruding from my throat, languidly stroking back and forth. “You like choking me?” His glowing eyes widen for half a second, but his face remains hard, barely letting me know he’s affected. “You do, don’t you?” He breathes slowly, air pushed out of this decompressing lungs. “Yeah. You do.” I say it matter of factly. It’s a statement. He likes choking me. “Choke me harder.” As soon as the last syllable rolls off my tongue the scarf squeezes tight, actually blocking my blood flow, but not crushing my windpipe, it’s so hot. I moan. I don’t mean to really, it's just so right. I close my eyes and let the light, airy feeling of oxygen deprivation wash over me, the smirk still plastered on my face, resigning myself to being captured. 
That’s when it happens, all the pain that had fallen from my head comes crashing back to me, the roar of noise that had grown normal immediately etching away the placid contentment that had taken me just moments before. I scream back to life and force myself into his mind, my feet falling back to the ground as my eyes slowly open again, tears leaking down the side. It had been so quiet. He’s leaning against the wall, eyes screwed shut. I wanna fry his brain, screw him up so bad that he’ll never form coherent sentences again, but then I look at him for real. His hair is playing across his painstricken face and I just wanna reach out and rub my hand across the scruff on his jaw. I want to feel him. He’s the only reason the pain has ever stopped. An urge like the one with the necklace, one I can’t ignore because it comes to me so quickly, raptures my body and I slide my hand up his neck and onto the side of his face. His eyes are still closed as he focuses on staying upright against the wall. My thumb trails over his bottom lip and even I’m stunned at how bold this feels. I lean up close to him, my chest inches from his, and whisper near his neck. “For the record, I liked it too.” I push off the wall and run out into the alley, sprinting towards the street, desperate to get into a crowd and disappear. 
A tingle runs down my spine. He’s chasing me. My cheeks tighten as I smile wider. I must be important if he’s abandoning the room full of citizens and a slumped hero to chase after one villain. I've barely even made a name for myself. My reputation must be growing quickly if they’re this persistent. I flick my wrist out, using a street lamp to swing myself around, facing the direction I had just been running from. If I keep running, he’ll capture me. I know I’m fast, but Eraser Head is so much faster. I see a flash of white and spring sideways, his capture weapon tunnels into the asphalt where I had just been standing. My eyes widen, that would have gone straight through me if I hadn’t moved. I whip my head in his direction, or in the general direction of where I assume he would be considering the angle at which the scarf shot at me. “Hey!! That could have killed m-“ I am unprepared to see him right in front of my face, dropping from the roof overlooking the alley, he had been above me the whole time. My words are cut off as a hard fist makes contact with the side of my jaw and I’m thrown into the brick wall next to me with so much force my eyes cross a little. Damn, I must have really pissed this fucker off. A quiet, involuntary groan pushes itself from my lungs, bringing me back to my surroundings and I can feel that damn capture weapon coiling around my body and squeezing me tightly. I’m bound and unable to move, but it’s not painful, like being caught in a hug by someone a little too excited to see you. I wiggle a little, knowing it’s in vain, then let my head fall to the side, resigned. 
He still has me facing the wall, but I can feel his presence behind me. The noise has gone again and I know that means his eyes are glued to me, I feel suddenly vulnerable. I feel his body warmth behind me, the only indication that he’s close to me, he doesn’t even have a smell. My head lulls to the other side and I giggle deep in the back of my throat when I feel long, adept fingers tangle into the hair at the back of my neck. He spins me in his arm and now I’m staring into his glowing eyes. He’s so close, so close and all I want to do is roll my body against his. I’m not sure why, but I’m so drawn to him, so enamored by the cruelty he shows toward me. My hips buck on their own, trying to get closer to him. My body is still wrapped up tight, so I barely move, just enough for him to see my motive and the grating hunger behind my eyes. He still hasn’t said a word and it feels like my lungs are on fire, not wanting to breathe and break the moment, our eyes are locked together and I swear I see something in them. Something changes, like he stopped looking through me and finally sees me for the first time. That… something vanishes as quickly as it came and he’s looking at me like a villain again, a low down scumbag. 
His flat hand comes speeding at me from thin air and there’s a loud, hollow ‘smack’ that hangs in the air as my cheek blooms with pain. Ow. He just hit my face. I wasn’t prepared for that and I release a mewl that sounds utterly ridiculous, so needy and weak. This is not me, I don’t beg anymore, I take. I can’t start begging for this man in a back alleyway, even if I can feel my body warming from my core. He slaps me again, softer time, just to get my attention. “Who do you work for?” His voice is low and threatening. A chill runs down my spine and settles below my stomach, landing in a strange place that prompts me to wet my lips and stare into his eyes even more intensely. 
‘Who do you work for?’ He asks. He doesn’t know. That’s good at least, the pros don’t know. They know nothing about me or my motivation. They must not even know why I’m here. I pocket that information and smirk again. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Eraser?” It’s a question, but rhetorical. He just grunts and hits me again, still not very hard, but forcing me to blink a few times as my eyes refocus. “Hit me again.” He does, hard. I hadn’t expected him to listen to me. A real moan drops from my lips, one you would probably hear in an adult film, it's loud and sensual, ripping from my vocal box. “Fuuuuck. Maybe we should fight more often.” My tongue slips out to lick my lip and I watch his eyes follow the trail of saliva that it leaves on my flesh. His eyes darting to my lips, then back to my eyes, and down again. His hand raises, like he’s going to hit me again, but he stalls. I suck in a breath, tensing in anticipation for the slap, it doesn’t come. It does, however, wait until I have unclenched my jaw, hurling at the swelling flesh faster than the first one did. That one really does something to me because my neck can no longer hold my head up, I feel like a bobble head as the only thing keeping my eye connected to his is the hand fisted into the nape of my neck, gripping the hair there so tightly I’m surprised it hasn’t been ripped out of my head. He asks me again. 
My eyes refocus, taking longer than it did last time to make his facial features clear. I’m about to tell him to fuck off when I see something just past his right shoulder. About damn time. My eyes flicker back to his face with a knowing smirk back on mine and he looks behind him in time to see a bald man with bat wings drop down into the alley with us. He has tattoos scrawled over every inch of exposed skin and a simple wife beater on. “I didn’t get your signal, looks like I was right to drop in.” He says it casually, like he’s just a friend stopping by my apartment for lunch, giving no indication that we're actually in the middle of a back alley brawl. The ringing in my skull is still vacant as Eraser Head evades this winged man’s attacks. He must still be looking at me somehow, but it seems impossible while he’s bouncing around the tight space between two brick walls. I’m behind him. “Stay still!” My getaway yells at Eraser Head, as if telling him to do so would actually make it happen. That's when I see the mirror, one for trucks to see around corners, that's how he’s still looking at me. I can barely move, but I can still reach my pocket and pull a tiny silver marble out. I keep it there to play with when I can feel my anxiety rising. I roll it between my fingers for a moment, loving the way it glints off the sun and reflects the colors around it, then flick it straight towards the mirror. The battle in front of me doesn’t stop as they try to hit each other, both stellar at evasive maneuvers, but it comes to a spectacular halt as the glass shatters and I’m released from Eraser Head’s hold. My splitting headache tears through me again, but it doesn’t throw me off like it did before. I’m ready for it this time. 
Eraser drops to one knee, trying to push himself back up with the one arm on the ground below him. I lessen the frequency that I’m forcing into his brain and his shoulders relax a bit, not enough to let him stand, but enough that I know he’s paying attention to me now. I reach one hand out and push his long hair to the side, it's softer than I expected and there are small, loose curls here and there, mixed in with the overall weft of waves that tumble from his head. It’s beautiful. I lean down, pressing my body against his, my chest flush to his back and his shoulders tense up again, as if I’m hurting him. I run my fingers through the soft hair at the base of his neck again and press my lips to the side of his throat. “I can’t wait to see you again.” I breathe in one more time and drag my nails down the back of his neck, raising goosebumps, but now I actually do smell something. A slight scent of bergamot and… something else, faintly clinging to his neck. I thought he had no scent, but I was wrong and my nostrils flare. This man is hellbent on making me feral isn’t he? I let out a gravelly grunt from the back of my throat and instinctively sink my teeth into the skin playing at my lips, not hard enough to bleed, but leave a mark that will have people questioning what he does in his free time. 
When I pull away, the eyes of the bat man are focused on me, a pink twinge in his cheeks as if he had seen something he wasn’t supposed to. 
Lucky bastard. That bite was so hot. My dick is getting hard. 
I scowl at him and walk towards his side of the alley, hooking my elbow around his neck and the other around his torso, fastening myself to his side. “Fly.” One word is all I say, black wings stretching to the side and propelling us up. 
Fuck. We’re touching. Fuck. My dick. Fuck. 
Reproachful. 
He falters and I look down at the ground below us. Eraser Head is still gripping himself in pain, but one eye is open and glowing, stalling my getaway. We start to drop, losing momentum. I stare down at Eraser Head and scream into him so loud he falls over immediately, barely catching himself on the wall and vomiting profusely. Our elevation is lifted again as we proceed with the getaway. “Faster!” I scream over the pressurized wind in my ears. We fly past at least a dozen buildings before landing on a tall rooftop. I drop to my feet and push off from the bat as soon as I can. What a vile creature. I look out over the city, feeling the flash drive still in my jacket pocket with my fingers. I know his eyes are on me, that stupid fucking bat. I can hear him, feel him. You would think people would be more careful with their thoughts. 
Wow. That ass. I saved that ass. That ass owes me. Just a feel. 
I reach out and grab his wrist just before his clammy hand touches my soft flesh. Never looking away from the sun starting to ride low on the horizon. “You have terrible manners.” I say slow and matter of fact. I can feel the panic in him, I can practically see the bulging of his eyes. “If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you leave right now.” I let go of his wrist, still looking out peacefully. Neither of us move for a moment and I start to think he will leave, but alas. 
Rude bitch. You owe me!
He reaches out, foregoing my ass and grabbing my hip, trying to yank me back towards him, but instead I spin, grabbing his shoulder and tossing him off the side of the building. We both know he has wings, he can fly, he’s unharmed and a cocky grin pulls his lips apart showing off his teeth. He would be handsome if he wasn’t an absolute prick. He starts to launch for me again when a cocky grin of my own appears on my face. His drops and suddenly so does he as I rip his brain in two, I don’t even try to make it easy on him. I crank up the frequency so high I'm sure I’ve passed dog whistle territory. We’re so high up all I can do is watch him plummet, falling so quickly to the concrete below us you would think he’s a magnet. Then I think to myself, and make it happen. I magnetize him and the ground below the surface, he falls faster, hitting the ground like a meteor, creating a crater in the street so deep the ground shakes and pipes burst. People on the street start to look up and I take that as my cue to disappear. 
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Thank you for reading! Hopefully you liked it? Enough to leave a note? Reblog? Comment?
lol anyways...
I will be updating this shortly, within the next couple of days. Thanks again!
CH3
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weirdlyhornyforegos · 4 years
Text
Actor Mark x reader
Anon: now let me know if this request is too vague but uhhh. but uhhh. can I top the Actor? lemme (consentually) wreck his shit p l e a s e. ah no strong pronoun preference; gender neutral i.e. they/them is 👌 but however you want
Anon: Hey! I hope you are doing well; this random idea popped into my head, but how would the egos react if their S/O spoke a foreign language, like French? Do you think it would turn them on at all? (Also, if you are interested/have the time, could we p o s s i b l y get a lil story based off of it with any ego of your choosing?)
MINORS DNI! Dude, mood honestly. I combined these two requests cause I could ;) And a super big thank you to @roncemorte​ for translating the French!!
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Ever since you found out about Mark’s love for French, you had practically been vibrating with excitement to use it for, or rather on him.
But you have to wait; wait for the perfect moment to strike and fluster him the most. 
Which tonights fancy dinner party at some rich directors place turns out to be the perfect setting for.
You and Mark are just taking a little break from socialising with other people, simply standing together while you people watch, your arm slung across his back and holding on his hip. You plant a kiss on his cheek, he just hums in response as he watches some sort of drama between two female guests play out.
“Chéri, vous êtes éblouissant ce soir, je pense même que vous pourriez voler la vedette aux étoiles.” The reaction is almost instant as Mark realises what language you just spoke to him. His head whips around and the look in his face is one of great surprise.
“You speak French?”
“Oui, mon cher.”
“I could tell there was a yes in there. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Oh, je ne sais point? Peut-être pour voir votre magnifique réaction? I am going to speak it for the rest of the evening, let us see how long you will last.” You briefly brush your lips against his.
“Mon amour, vous allez être dans tous ces états à la fin de la nuit, je vous le promets.” You can tell Mark is already getting a little flustered, a small blush creeping up above his collar. 
Which means it’s the perfect moment to yell out for an old friend, leaving Mark to himself and his own thoughts.
Throughout the night, you keep whispering sweet and wonderful things in Mark’s ear, never stopping by him for long.
“Mon amour pour vous est sans limites.”
“Je vous aime plus que tout au monde.”
“Je pense que tu serais ravissant à genoux mon amour.” 
“Je veux vous embrasser à vous en couper le souffle.”
“Pensez-vous que je pourrais vous mettre dans tous ces états sous moi ce soir?”
You keep going, as Mark gets more and more flustered, and more, and more red. 
Eventually, you’re yanked into a bedroom as you walk by on your way back from getting another drink. 
Mark presses you against the door as soon as it is closed behind you, not caring that some of your drink sloshes over the edge of the glass. His lips are on yours within an instance. You let him dominate the kiss for a moment before he pulls back.
“You are infuriating.”
“So are you, you made me spill some of my drink.” You shift your drink over to your other hand, licking away what you can of your drink from your wet hand. Mark groans at the sight, hiding his face in your shoulder.
“You know what the fuck I mean.” You grin, putting a hand under his chin, tilting his head up.
“Oh, vous voulez dire comme ça ? Il vous est difficile de paraitre normal près des autres lorsque je parle ainsi?”
“You’re evil.” Mark kisses you again, and you hum into the kiss. When his hands start to wander, you stop him with your unoccupied hand.
“Not here. Je veux vous ramener à la maison pour pouvoir vous prendre correctement.” Mark groans, and you grin, getting off the door so you can drag him out into the party once more.
*************
When it’s finally time to leave, Mark is so eager to get home that he barely says his goodbyes before he is out the door, you in tow. 
You had walked to the party since you do not live far away, which is now torture for Mark. 
His grip on your arm is strong, and he’s more or less trying to drag you home faster. You’re having none of it, purposefully slowing him down with your hand on his.
“Slow down, mon amour. Je ne vais pas vous baiser plus vite.” Mark does slow down, but you can tell he is impatient.
As soon as the door is closed behind you at home, Mark is dragging you once more, now towards the bedroom. 
This time you let him, even letting him push you down on the bed, and straddle your hips as soon as you’re fully in it. He tries to lean down to kiss you, but you lean up and stop him with a hand under his chin.
“Mon amour, slow down. Je veux que vous preniez le temps d’apprécier cette nuit, non pas vous hâter.” Then you let him kiss you, his arms going around your shoulders, and yours around his back.
Mark is insistent, pushing you into the mattress with his kisses. He shifts a little so he’s laying between your legs, rocking his hips into yours, arousal obvious against you. 
You moan as he moves down to your neck sucking and biting as he goes. A particularly hard nip send your hands flying into his hair, tugging.
“Je suis heureux que tu saches te servir de ta bouche, mais maintenant c’est mon tour.” Without any more warning, you flip the two of you around, pressing Mark into the mattress beneath you.
“Unfair.” You grin, leaning down to let your lips hover just above his.
“Pas vraiment.” You kiss him, starting to take his jacket off. Once Mark realises what you’re doing, he’s more than aboard, helping you shed his layers until he’s naked underneath you. 
He tries to tug at your clothes to get them off as well, but you stop him, covering his hands with yours.
“Patience.” Mark pouts, but lets you guide his hands to his sides. Kissing him, you move from his lips, to his neck, down his collarbone, across his sternum, barely grazing over his stomach before your lips are on his cock.
As you let your lips brush teasingly light against his cock, his hands tangles in your hair. Looking up, your eyes connect to his as your mouth hovers over his cock.
“Stop being a tease.”
“Non.” At least he understands that fully, throwing his head back with a groan as you start up your actions once more. Your own hands pushes at his thighs, holding him open for you as you ghost over his cock. 
You let your fingers briefly brush against his balls, making him draw in a sharp breath in anticipation for your touch, but you let them fall lower instead. You’re not going to do anything without lube, but it’s fun to tease him what you could if you had any.
You start to lick along Mark’s shaft, just small touches of your tongue. His cock twitches with each one, and there are small noises escaping him all the time. His hands in your hair mostly stay still, it seems he has realised he’s not going to get his way just yet.
Finally, finally, you take the tip off his cock in your mouth, and Mark moans. You suck slightly, and the hands in your hair tightens. 
Your fingers are still moving around and teasing him lower down, which Mark seems to have had enough off, as suddenly a bottle of lube hits your shoulder, bouncing off it and landing on the bed next to Mark’s knee. 
You take his cock out of your mouth, which he frowns at.
“What?” 
“If you’re going to tease me, at least do it properly.” You grin, placing a kiss against his thigh.
“Oh, is someone getting impatient?” 
“Yes!” Mark tugs at your hair and you groan, putting both your hands on his thighs once more.
“All right, all right. Je vais m’occuper de toi mon amour.” Mark groans and lets his head fall back.
“Still playing dirty.” Another kiss at his thigh as you take the bottle of lube and open it.
“Toujours et à jamais.” You put your mouth back on his cock, sucking briefly at the head before taking a little more in your mouth. Your now lubed up fingers wander down to Mark’s hole, and you slide one in. 
Mark lets out a satisfied moan at finally getting somewhere, and rocks down.
You decide that he’s not getting it so easy, setting a deliberately slow pace, with both your mouth and fingers. He’s getting it all, but not at once. Sometimes he has to have patience.
As you add another finger with your first, you go down as far down as you can on Mark’s cock. This causes him to not know if he should rock down or up, so he tries to do both. You keep him from choking you with moving your hand from his thigh to his hip. 
Moving back a little, you start to move up and down on his cock, sucking harder at random intervals, so Mark doesn’t know when you’re about to do it.
A third finger soon joins the others, as you can hear Mark start to get closer and closer to the edge underneath you. He’s letting out these breathless little moans that you love, mumbling a few broken ‘please’, and ‘more’ inbetween all the other wonderful noises he is making.
As soon as he is close to the edge, you pull back completely. Taking your mouth off his cock and the fingers out of his ass, Mark’s eyes slams open, looking down at you. 
You smile at him as you untangle his fingers from your hair. 
“Je vais te baiser maintenant. Any objections?” You tilt your head, and Mark’s furiously shakes his head.
“No, please, I, I need-” Mark seems lost for words, stopped so close to coming. You lean down to plant a quick kiss on his lips before getting off the bed.
You take a few minutes to undress and prep yourself, during which Mark is all whines and pleading noises, barely forming any coherent sort of sentence. 
But you get what he wants, so when you get on the bed again, you crawl between his legs. His hands grabs a hold of your (now finally naked) shoulders to drag you into a kiss. 
You let him, as his hands wander to brush against your own arousal, which makes you draw a sharp breath and break the kiss.
“Putain, comment fait ta main pour que je me sente aussi bien?” Mark grins a smug grin, not even knowing a word you said, he knows he’s having an effect on you.
But then you’re pushing his hand away, slowly sliding into him, which transforms the grin into a loud, drawn out, moan. You pepper kisses along his neck and collarbone and neck while he adjusts, you’re sure he can feel the smile on your lips against his skin. 
His hands go to your hair again, tugging.
“Fucking move, I, ah.” You hum into his skin, starting to make a hickey as your hips start to move. Slowly, slowly, not giving him what just yet.
“Faster, you tease!” 
“Non.” Mark uses his hold on your hair to yank you into another kiss, lips desperate and hot where they meet your own. His tongue soon comes out to play, and you respond in kind.
You know what he is doing, trying to get you to speed up without realising it yourself, but you know him too well for that.
Plus, you knew he was very close to the edge just moments before, and you don’t want him to come just yet.
So your hips remain slow, barely moving as he claws at your back while you kiss. He only breaks the kiss so he can start to beg, which is a lovely sound you find.
“Please, hell, ah, I.....” You move to kiss at his collarbones as no to leave your mouth unoccupied while he is running his.
“You... Ah.... I, fuck, hard to think like thi-!” You grin, letting your mouth close around a nipple. Mark gasps, and bucks into you, rubbing his by now weeping cock against your stomach.
“I swear, you, ah! Just, just.....” Mark pants, tugging at your hair
“Just?”
“Just move!”
“Alright.” Clearly Mark hadn’t expected that answer, as he draws in a sharp breath. You draw your hips all the way back, leaving you barely inside of him, before you slam your hips into his. Mark moans loudly and sharply, and you set a brutal pace. 
If faster was what he wanted, that was what he was going to get.
Your thrust are hard and fast, pushing Mark upwards with every thrust. His hands have moved to your shoulders, gripping hard. 
You’re sure you’re going to have a few interesting bruises later. You don’t mind, it’s all worth it to hear the noises he is making below you. He’s moaning and whimpering, getting utterly lost in the sensation.
On a particular well aimed thrust, you seem to find his prostate, as Mark or less startles in your grasp, gasping loudly.
“Please, do that again!” In an obliging mood now, you do just that, managing to hit his prostate again on the next thrust. Mark gasps again, and pulls you down for a kiss. It’s messy as all hell, uncoordinated and harsh, but it makes your lips light up with stars.
You’re getting closer and closer to your own edge, and you can feel Mark doing the same, shaking slightly, bucking down on you and up into to get friction for his cock against your stomach. 
Breaking the kiss, you move your mouth right next to his ear.
“Jouis pour moi.” Even if Mark doesn’t know the words, the French in his ear is what ends up sending him over the edge underneath you. His come splatters over his stomach and yours.
You’re not far behind, only needing a few more thrusts before finding your own release. You collapse on top of Mark, making let out a little surprised grunt.
You lay there for a few minutes, just catching your breath together. You almost can’t be assed to clean up properly, but you know you should, so you get off Mark and the bed with minimal protest from him. 
You leave the room briefly to get a towel for Mark, cleaning and fixing up yourself a little at the same time. 
When you get back, Mark is almost asleep, sprawled out on his his back, one arm above his head, the other resting on his chest. 
He looks like such a beautiful mess that you have to stop in the doorway just to admire him, and to try to stomp down your own already reignited arousal. 
Mark looks over at you then, and by the grin on his face he knows how much of pretty picture he makes. Sweaty, normally neat hair all over the place, his own cum covering his stomach. 
Moving away from the doorway, you walk over, his eyes on you the whole time. Getting on your knees on the bed, you start to gently clean him. Mark sighs, closing his eyes, and seems  to more or less melt into the mattress.
“J’aime te procurer autant de plaisir.” Mark lets out a little groan, and you think if he was a little less tired, he might be interested in round two. 
Instead he just lets you clean him off with the towel, chuckling as you throw the used towel on top of your clothes. You can’t be bothered to leave the bed again, and you have to wash them anyway. 
Laying down on your back, you pull the covers up so it’s covering the both of you while Mark twist around so he’s snuggled into your side. He yawn right next to your ear and you giggle, putting and arm around his back.
“That thing you kept repeating, what did it mean?” Mark’s voice is sleepy, low, mumbly, and barely audible.
“Which one?”
“The Mon A-something. You said it a few times.” You smile, turning your head to kiss his hair, he lets out a sleepy little hum.
“Mon amour.”
“Yes, that one.”
“It means my love.” Mark mumbles something, before trying out the words for himself.
“Mon amour..... Mon amour.” It doesn’t quite sound right in his mouth, the pronunciation is off, but it sounds lovely anyway. 
“Yes, that you are.” Another kiss to his hair.
“Now go to sleep.”
“Alright.... Mon amour.” You snort.
“I’ll help you get it right in the morning.” Mark lets out a little laugh, and not long after, the both of you are fast asleep.
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thdorkmagnet · 4 years
Text
Heyo everyone!! Happy National Hug Day!! Haha, so when I heard the news that today was all about one of the greatest forms of affection that exists, I of course had to take advantage of it and write a Starco short to celebrate! Haha I mean hugs are like 90% what that ship is. Maybe 91? I don’t know I’m too tired to do math XD So anyways I hope you all enjoy and I hope you all have someone in your life who you can celebrate today with a hug of your own. But if not, then please settle for my internet hugs.... *HUGS~~!!!* 
Oh and just so everyone knows this takes place in my Light of the Sun and Stars AU. Okay thanks, enjoy. 
Today had felt like it would never end. 
Star couldn't remember the last time she had been this exhausted from royal duties. When she had been filling in for her parents the days had been long and hard but she had thought those days were behind her. Now she had plenty of friends to help her and lend her a hand. Except today.
Today had been a disaster the moment she woke up. Between helping plan renovations on poor Monsters homes as part of her Wellness Act and judging some art contest or whatever for her parents, Star already had a full day of work. But on top of that the MHC had decided again to have another 'emergency meeting' and throw off her whole schedule. The 'emergency' was nothing more than a few rumors circulating about Monsters trying to overthrow the Mewmans. It had taken everything Star had in her not to roll her eyes. Did these guys seriously believe everything they heard on the Mirror Web? She managed to disprove all of the accusations but that had taken hours and she had been forced to endure so, so many lectures on why treating Monsters equally was a bad idea.
By the time she finally got back to Mewni she was ready to explode with anger. And she still had a few hours of work ahead of her. 
Finally, Star’s endlessly long day drew to a close, the blonde royal never happier in her life to see the sun set on the horizon even if she sadly missed the chance to watch it with Marco. By the time she was finished with all her work stars had begun blinking into view in the inky black sky above. But Star didn’t care about any of that, all she wanted to do was get to her room and rest, maybe sleep for the next hundred years or until Marco gave her a kiss to wake her, whichever came first.
The girl’s whole body was slumped forward as she trudged through the halls to her room, moving at a pace that would make a snail look like a track star. Her feet ached, her eyelids felt so heavy it was a constant fight to keep them open, and her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess. But none of that mattered right now because with every step she was getting closer and closer to her bed. The very thought of being enveloped in her warm sheets made her sigh in longing. 
She managed to get into her room without falling asleep on the floor and she closed the door leaning heavily against it. She smiled at her brightly lit room, thinking to herself, it’s good to be home. But before she could crawl over to her bed, she heard a familiar voice call her name. Star turned to be greeted by a smiling face and bright, brown eyes, which hovered mere inches away from her, hopping up and down in excitement. The splash of red that covered the top half of his body seemed to express his exuberant mood perfectly and his spinning suns were almost hypnotizing with their glow.
“Hey Marco,” Star greeted as cheerfully as she could, though she lacked the energy for enthusiasm.
Marco didn’t seem to notice his girlfriend’s tired state as he continued hopping around the room. “I’m so glad you're back! I could barely wait for you to get back!”
Star grinned tiredly at her boyfriend, rubbing at her eye numbly. “Oh why? Is there something going on?” 
Marco giggled as if she had just said the funniest thing he had ever heard. “Did you forget what today was?” 
She tried not to gaze longingly at her bed and forced her eyes to remain focused on Marco, wanting to give him the full attention he deserved, even if she didn’t feel up for it right now. She blinked, taking way too long for her brain to register his question and struggled to form any coherent thought to answer him but nothing came to her lethargic mind. “Is it someone’s birthday?” she guessed, massaging her eyes with her palms.
“No, silly. It’s Thursday and you know what that means…” the boy began, before giving her a sly grin to see if she caught on or not.
Realization hit Star like a train and she gasped. “Date night.”
“Exactly!” Marco exclaimed, pumping his fists into the air, overjoyed his girlfriend had finally remembered. “And you said the other day that for tonight’s date we could go see Ol’ Youthful. It’s said it only goes off once every 37 years and tonight is that night! If we don’t go see it today we won’t be able to again until we’re old!” The boy was again hopping around the room, his excitement too much for him to bare, needing to express his enthusiasm through movement. 
Star took a moment to let all of this sink in, before she bit her lip nervously. “Oh right? That?” she muttered, burying her face in her hands. She had forgotten all about her promise and had instead used up all her energy on dumb stuff like running Mewni instead of the things that mattered, like Marco. The weight of her bad decision pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She didn’t want to disappoint Marco, not for anything. She would rather die than see the smile fall from his face and she could tell just how much he was looking forward to this. 
But while her heart said one thing, her body disagreed. All her aches and pains over the day’s long, strenuous activities making themselves known, aggressively arguing her desire to please her bestie. She couldn’t physically hold up traveling all the way to Earth, there was just no way. She felt a few disheartened tears leak out of her eyes and drip onto her palms and she wiped them away ferociously with the little energy she had left. 
Then she looked solemnly over to Marco, watching with a heavy heart as he continued bouncing around her room and regrettably opened her mouth to speak. “Uhh, Marco.” She paused, waiting until the hooded teen met her eye and the hope and joy in his expression made her feel like the lowest creature in any dimension. “About date night…” Star didn’t have the heart to finish the sentence, a hand rubbing nervously up and down her arm as she struggled to speak. 
Marco cocked his head to the side and finally took a good, long look at his girlfriend since she entered her room. He noticed the thick bags that hung heavily under her eyes, her shaking legs as if they were struggling to keep her upright, and her slouched form. She looked exhausted and half-dead and all thoughts of date night flew from his head, now solely focused on helping his blonde bestie. “Are you okay, Star?” he asked worriedly, stepping over to her to give her a more thorough examination. Or catch her in case she collapsed.
Star shook her head. “I had a really long day. Like seriously, realllly long. Like all-I-want-to-do-is-lay-down-and-not-move-for-the-next-24-hours long. And I just don’t think I have it in me to go see that young thing you were talking about.”
“Ol’ Youthful?”
“Yeah,” Star said with a nod of her head. She hung her head in shame before muttering sadly, “I’m sorry, Marco. I hate to disappoint you.”
Marco stared at his girlfriend in shock for a moment, before it softened into a loving grin. Without a word he pulled Star into a tight hug, holding her close to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. Star blushed, not expecting the sudden hug and found herself leaning heavily into her boyfriend’s body. Even though Marco wasn’t exactly known as the strongest Mewman alive, far from it, his hold on her was unwavering, holding her upright through sheer force of will, even though Star could feel her legs going out on her, surprising her more than the actual hug had. 
“M-Marco.” she whispered, feeling her heart cheekmarks thumping in time to her heartbeat. 
“It’s okay, Star,” the boy finally said, giving her body a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to feel bad for anything. We don’t have to go see Ol’ Youthful. We can just stay here and rest.”
Star bit her lip, feeling her stomach churn with guilt. “Are you sure? I know you really wanted to see it.”
Marco nodded, still not breaking off the hug. “Yeah, it’s fine. Your health is way more important to me than some geyser.”
“You don’t have to miss it!” Star supplied, pulling out of the hug so she could fix him with a supportive grin, wanting to find some way to make it up to her boyfriend. “I mean just cause I don’t feel like it doesn’t mean you can’t go! I bet Jackie and Janna would want to see it! Heck, I bet if you asked, Tom, Ponyhead, and Kelly would all take you, too!”
Marco stared deep into his girlfriend’s eyes, seeing her burning need to please him and her own lingering guilt buried deep in her stunning pupils. A small, flicker of emotion washed over him, like a tiny, dull heartbeat, whispering to him Star’s true thoughts thanks to their bond. And because of this Marco didn’t even hesitate as he shook his head firmly no, much to his royal friend’s surprise. “No. I won’t go without you, Star. It just wouldn’t be the same. If we can’t both go, then I don’t wanna go at all.”
Star’s gaze softened, unable to hide the flicker of joy that flashed across her face. “Really? Are you sure?”
Marco nodded with no regrets. “Positive. I don’t care what we do, so long as I can do it with you.” 
Star couldn’t hold back the coo as her eyes shined with love and joy. “Awww, Marco!”
Marco gave her a bright grin as he added, “Besides, we can always see the next eruption in 37 years.”
Star giggled, before gently kissing his cheek. “It’s a date,” she replied tenderly.
After that, Marco made a pile of pillows and blankets for the two of them to lay in and rest, while Star fought back against the narrow grip of exhaustion, pushing it back so she could stay awake and be with her favorite person for a bit. Marco lay back on the cumfy cushiony mountain he had crafted, before Star lay down on his chest, the boy holding her close in a warm hug. Star snuggled deep into the soft embrace as her consciousness slowly faded. The seconds ticked by at a slow speed, while the two Mewmans cuddled each other on the floor, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful. 
“Marco?” Star whispered, after a while, her voice sluggish as the last of her mind fought against the exhaustion, needing to know one more thing before she could sleep in peace.
“Hmm?” Marco muttered, his voice ringing with the same life and energy as before but his body still and relaxed. 
“Are you sure you don’t regret this?” Star asked, feeling stupid for asking.
Marco shook his head lazily, before whispering, “Actually, Star. There is no place I’d rather be.” 
And Star knew he meant it.
Star smiled. There was something about Marco’s hold that made Star feel safe and warm. Like she could melt into him and become a part of him, just existing blissfully inside his heart where she no doubt belonged. There were so many uncertain things in Star’s hectic world but as long as her Marco was holding her nothing could touch them, no darkness could enter into the world that existed in their arms. And so, she gave in, sighing happily and snuggling deeper into his hoodie, loving the way the soft fabric tickled her skin before falling into a long, blissful sleep. 
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Text
Oblivious
Pairing: Nasty Suicide x Reader (Requested)
Author’s Note: I kinda really like this one so I hope you do too!
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Nasty stood in front of the dingy mirror in the backstage dressing room, running his fingers through is somewhat dirty locks of hair. Hanoi Rocks was set to take the stage in about a half an hour, so he and the rest of the band were currently preening and prepping for the show.
Andy and Michael were the only other two in the dressing room with Nasty. They too were busy adjusting scarves and jewelry and teasing their hair.
“Hey Nasse,” Andy called from across the tiny room, not bothering to turn his gaze away from his own reflection, “Did you hear (Y/N)’s coming tonight?”
Nasty dropped his hands from his head and turned to face Andy’s form. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“No, why?” he asked.
Andy and Michael both looked away from what they were doing to share a smirk with the other. Nasty got the feeling they were up to something and did not like it one bit.
“What?” he pressed, now that both the other men were fully facing him with their stupid little smiles. “What is it?”
“Oh nothing,” Andy said, feigning innocence. “I just thought you’d like to know.” With that, he turned back to the mirror and began messing with the buttons of his blouse.
Now Nasty was even more confused. He turned to Michael who always seemed more reasonable than Andy in these types of situations.
“Mike,” Nasty practically whined, “why is it so important that (Y/N)’s coming to our show?”
Michael must have felt some pity for the boy because he did supply a little bit more of an answer to his question than Andy had.
“It’s really not that important,” Mike said with a sympathetic smile. “We just thought maybe you’d want to know.”
“But why?” Nasty asked again, beginning to grow frustrated with all the secretive looks his mates were sharing and their avoidance of answering the question. “Just tell me,” he demanded, crossing his arms and setting his friends with a firm look.
“Oh my god,” Andy groaned. “It’s like everyone knows but you. I swear you and (Y/N) are the two most oblivious people I know.”
Nasty opened his mouth to ask even more questions, but Michael beat him to speaking.
“Look Nasty, we love you man, but are you really that daft? You and (Y/N) totally have the hots for each other,” Mike said whilst fixing Nasty with an exasperated look and turned away from his friend to reapply his lipstick.
Nasty, meanwhile, was having a mini aneurism. Him and (Y/N)? What? No, they were just friends. It wasn’t like that. Or was it? Suddenly, he was thinking back to all the times you and he had spent together. All those nights when you had come back to the house after a gig and stayed up with him and the guys all night. Those times where the two of you had gotten bored after everyone had gone to sleep or passed out and had gone out and rode the underground for hours, just talking and laughing. You hadn’t needed anything more than each other’s company. He thought back to the nights where the two of you got completely shit-faced after a night at the pub and danced and sang at the top of your lungs in the London streets until the neighbors threatened to call the cops. He remembered the night you came to him crying after your landlord had kicked you out. How he’d let you spend the night in his room with him. He remembered thinking how beautiful you looked, even when you were sleeping and hogging all the covers. He thought about all the hugs you had shared, all the smiles you had gifted him, and all the corny jokes you’d made him laugh with.
Oh shit. He was in love with you.
“Oh shit.”
Michael and Andy both broke out into cackling laughter at Nasty’s expense. The poor boy looked like he had come to the biggest realization of his life.
“You really didn’t know?” Andy asked through fits of laughter. “Everyone else did.”
If it was possible, Nasty’s eyes grew even wider. “What do you mean everyone else did? Does (Y/N) know?” he asked, panicking at the idea of you having realized he had feelings for you before even he did.
“Well,” Michael said, “everyone but (Y/N) knows.”
Nasty let out a small sigh of relief. Nervously, he reached up to tug at his hair. “What do I do now?” he asked his friends. “Should I say something? What if (Y/N) doesn’t like me back?” He was now stressing over how he was going to keep his cool when he saw you tonight.
Andy barked out another laugh and clapped Nasty on the shoulder. “Relax mate, (Y/N) likes you too.”
“They do?”
“Oh my god, that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you,” Michael said, resisting the urge to facepalm. “I think the two of you should talk after the show, get this all sorted out, because if this nonsense keeps going on for any much longer the rest of us are going to lose are minds.”
“Nonsense?” Nasty asked, but at this point in the conversation his mind was focused on a million different things. He liked (Y/N). (Y/N) liked him. Everyone knew. It was a lot for him to process in less than ten minutes.
“You two keep dancing around each other and the way you feel and it’s making me sick,” Andy responded. “So we’re gonna go play our show and afterwards when you see (Y/N), you are confessing your feelings,” Andy said. Nasty almost felt like he was being scolded.
“But-”
“Or I’m telling (Y/N) how you feel,” Andy threatened. “Now let’s go. It’s almost time for us to take the stage.”
 The show went by in a haze for Nasty. He played fine, but his mind was entirely elsewhere. How was he supposed to confess his feelings for you, especially when he just realized them himself? He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely recognized that their set had ended. It wasn’t until Sami began nudging him offstage did he realize it was over.
He knew you would be backstage waiting for him and the rest of the band. You always were when you attended one of their gigs. The six of you would leave the venue shortly after and typically hit up a pub or two afterwards.
Nasty made a beeline for the dressing room the second he stepped foot off the stage. He didn’t lift his head up and look around for you. No, he was too terrified that he’d catch your eye and have to go over and talk to you. He wasn’t ready! All that time spent thinking on stage and he still had no idea how to tell you how he felt.
Looking in the mirror, he tried to hype himself up.
It’s just (Y/N). You’ve been friends for years. You can do this.
Nasty decided to change clothes before he went to speak with you. Not only because the hot lights of the stage had made him all sweaty and uncomfortable, but because he wanted to look a little more presentable for when he saw you.
He always brought a spare shirt with him to gigs since he normally sweated through his stage clothes. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some random t shirt thrown into his bag. Now, he was wishing he had thought out what he had brought a little more carefully. There was nothing inherently wrong with the spare shirt he had brought, it just didn’t do him any favors. What was once a plain black t shirt was now a thin, faded grey shirt with various stains of unknown origin on it. Not to mention, it was a size or two too small for him.
Not really having any other choice, he threw the shirt on and examined his reflection in the mirror. He looked like he normally would when he saw you, a little sweaty, hair all tangled up, mismatched clothes and accessories thrown on. How could Andy possibly think that you would like him back? You always looked so good, so effortlessly cool and he, well he looked like a sewer rat.
A knock at the door jolted him out of his pity party.
“Come in!” he called out, assuming it was just one of his bandmates checking to make sure he wasn’t naked before barging in.
To his surprise though, it was you who opened the door to the dressing room. At the sight of your face, Nasty swallowed thickly with nerves.
“Hey,” you greeted, smiling easily, “Andy told me I could find you in here.”
“Oh,” Nasty said, trying to muster up any coherent sentence to say to you. “Oh,” he said again. He cursed himself internally for not being able to come up with anything smooth or witty.
You didn’t seem to take any notice though. Instead, you hopped up onto the table sitting in the corner of the room and took a seat.
“Andy said you wanted to talk to me,” you said, tilting your head to the side and examining the man in front of you. Nasty seemed on edge, which was unusual for him. He was normally so carefree, the life of the party. He had even appeared to be a little nervous on stage too.
“He did?” Nasty asked, not meeting your eyes. His gaze focused on your feet instead, swinging back and forth as they hung off the edge of the table.
“Yeah,” you answered, perplexed by his shy behavior. “Is something wrong? You seem off,” you pointed out.
Finally, he lifted his head to meet your worried eyes. “Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” he stammered. “I just, um, well.”
“Just what?” you urged gently. Whatever it was that was bothering your friend, you wanted to be there to help him out with it.
Nasty cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “(Y/N), I um, well, I really like you. You’re one of my best friends.”
“I really like you too dumbass,” you said with a chuckle. “That’s what you had to tell me?”
In this moment, Nasty knew he had two options. He could agree with you, laugh it off, and pretend he had nothing more to say. He could do that, or he could continue. He could tell you how he really felt. He could take the risk of losing you or making things awkward by confessing his love. He thought back to Michael assuring him that you felt the same way and Andy threatening to tell you the truth if Nasty wouldn’t. He decided to take the risk.
“Well no. That’s not all,” he said.
Nasty’s voice got all quiet and serious. You had never really seen him like this before. You straightened your back and strained to listen to what he had to say.
“I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. I guess I just never took a step back and looked at things,” he said, biting his lip. “I guess it’s been fairly obvious to other people though,” he said, huffing out a small laugh. “I think I’m in love with you (Y/N). I want to be more than just best friends with you.”
It was silent after his confession. All you could do was stare at him. His words were still ringing in your head. Nasty loved you? Nasty wanted to be more than just friends?
Nasty took your surprised expression as a bad sign. Clearly, you hadn’t seen this coming and were trying to process what he had just revealed to you. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed the lump forming in the back of his throat and continued to apologize. “I shouldn’t have said anything at all. I’m so sorry (Y/N). Andy and Mike, they tried to tell me it was a good idea to let you know, but I shouldn’t have listened to them. God, I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”
His apologies shook you out of your state of shock. You hurriedly hopped off the table you were sitting on and rushed to the rambling boy who was now looking very distraught.
“No, no, Nasty, don’t apologize!” you said, grabbing onto his upper arms. “It’s okay, nothing’s ruined.”
“How is it not ruined?” Nasty said in a much louder voice now. He was obviously getting very worked up and upset. “How can we go back to being friends after what I just said?”
You soothingly ran your hands up and down his arms, trying to calm him. “I thought you said you wanted to be more than just friends?” you asked lightly, giving his biceps a gentle squeeze.
“What?”
“I thought you wanted to be more than friends. So why does it matter if things can’t go back to the way they were before?”
Nasty looked deep into your eyes, searching for any form of deception. “What are you trying to say?” he asked.
“I’m trying to say that I think I love you too,” you said, moving your hands up to caress along his jawline. “I’m trying to say that I feel the same way.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” you mocked.
“So, it would be okay if I kissed you?” he asked, looking down longingly at your lips.
“Please.”
60 notes · View notes
burning-omen · 4 years
Note
Mat I ask for Cameron Frye, from Ferris Bueller's day off, with a Very laid back boyfriend?
Big Baby
Word count: 1,548
Paring: Cameron Frye x male!reader
Warning: sex was mentioned but not implied
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You hadn't known Ferris or his friends long before you started dating Cameron. It sorta just happened one night.
It was late and you'd snuck into Cameron's house through his bedroom window, effectively scaring the shit out of him.
"Holy shit, y/n you need to leave!" he whispered aggressively.
"Why ya whispering Cam? Aren't your parents out of town?" you said before flopping down on his bed.
"No! They got back a few hours ago, which is why you need to leave!"
"Nah, I think I'll stay."
It took about five minutes of going back and forth with him to convince him everything was fine.
Now, you were laying across the end of his bed while he sat up at the top with his legs half way under the cover.
And it was quite, unnervingly quite.
The uncomfortable silence dragged on for a few minutes before you turned to him with a relaxed sigh.
"You wanna hear about the time I broke Rooney's windshield?"
He looked down at you with a slightly amused but mostly concerned look on his face.
"Why..?"
"The why doesn't matter, it's the how that matters."
You turned on your side, holding you head up with your hand.
"So it was a Thursday, and Rooney had finally brought his new, hot car he'd been bragging about to school. He was so busy watching Ferris that he paid me no mind when I walked right past him on the stairs." you explained, making hand gestures to go along with the story.
Cameron, who had brought his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them, was listening intently. In his head this was paradise. Just you and him, nothing else in the world matters other than you and him and the story.
"So I went up to the roof of the school, it was really easy because they don't lock the doors up there and I had taken a little box of pencils with me to drop on unsuspecting victims. I ended up throwing one of them a little too hard and at just the right angle that it shattered Rooney's windshield on impact. And to this day, nothing will be better than the look of horror on his face when he walked back out, peak comedy. I tell you..." you finish, laughing and rolling into you back again. "That was most likely my greatest achievement... Well, ever! "
While you laughed and talked Cameron's mind was racing. Why was this paradise to him? He had similar times with Ferris and even with Sloane. So why did this just feel so perfect? It was strange and new but also kinda nice? Refreshing and honestly, a little romantic.
... Now that he's thinking about it, it's very romantic. The light conversation, the jokes, the quick emotional closeness. Was this love?
To be honest, love felt strange. The little tingle in his chest and the lightness in his mind was strange. This is all so strange and sudden.
He looked down at you. Still talking, having jumped into another story having something to do with cats and a broken computer. Cameron couldn't focus on the story, or anything else for that matter. He was just focused on you and he couldn't stop focusing on you. Just laying there, like you didn't know what he was feeling.
That's because he doesn't know, dumbass.
Oh, right.
He let out a long sigh. Shit, he was in love. Which he's never experienced before. How does one go about confronting this love? How he supposed to tell you? Should he just.. Go for it?
“Cameron?”
He looked over at you.
Alright, I guess we're just going for it.
“You alright? I thought I lost you there for a se-”
“I need to tell you something,” he rushed out, unable to meet your eyes.
“Is it about the story? 'Cause trust me, I know it's bad. I'm the one who had to experience it.”
“No.. No it's... Something else..”
This was turning out to be a lot harder than he thought. He doesn't really know why he thought this would be easy but here he was in the middle of it.
“I…” he swallowed hard, trying to form a single coherent sentence.“I'm ... I..”
“Wait a sec..” you were silent for a moment then you burst out laughing. “Is this about your little crush on me?”
Cameron was absolutely blown away. You knew?! And never said anything! Why?
“You knew?” he says in a quiet voice.
“You're not discreet, Cam. So it was pretty obvious.”
“.. Does anyone else know?”
“Ferris most definitely knows, but i'm guessing he’s cool with it.”
This is great. Just great. You know. Ferris knows. And his life is definitely over. But despite him being ready to go tombstone shopping he took a leap of faith.
Taking a deep breath then just barely squeaking out, “Are you cool with it?”
Now it was your turn to sigh. You sat up right, then turned to him.
“Cameron... I'm a lot more than cool with it. Listen, I think you're great and funny.. A little bit of a party pooper but just about everything about you makes up for it. And I like you.. A lot.”
After a long silence he said, “So does this mean we're dating?”
"Yes, it does.”
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
And from that day forward you and Cameron were together. Ferris caught on pretty fast, he was still fine with it. (He has walked on you two making out before, Cameron was ready to die on the spot.)
Most days were spent with Ferris and Sloane, but nights were mainly spent at his house(not in that way) seeing as his parents never checked on him.
But tonight you were at your house, alone. You'd gotten detention, which pissed off your parents, which caused them to ground you. Meaning you weren't allowed to leave the house. You could always sneak out but you decided not to. Maybe you'd try tomorrow, but not tonight.
As you were dozing off you heard a small knock on your window. You groaned and rolled over, facing the window.
You don't know what you were expecting to see but you did not expect Cameron to be at your window, just barely standing stably on your roof.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered as you sat up from you bed and walked over to your window.
He was smiling widely, with a hint of nervousness behind it.
You unlocked your window and let him open it.
“Look at you, finally putting on your big boy pants and sneaking out.”
He laughed a little, climbed in, and damn near tripping over a shirt you had on the floor.
“I wanted to see you…” he muttered with a bit of shyness in his tone.
You smiled. “Aww, you missed me?” You said teasingly as you wrapped your arm around his waist and pulled him closer.
His face flushed a dark red. “That’s not what I said“
“You didn’t have to say it, I know you missed me.”
“Don’t act so full of yourself…”
“I’m full of myself because I know when I’m missed. Yeah, alright baby.”
He leaned in closer to you, gently placing his head on your shoulder.
“Don’t call me that,” he said in a barely audible voice.
“Why? Because you don’t like it or because it flusters you?”
Cameron whined quietly, pushing himself closer to you.
“Alright, I’ll stop. But only if you come to bed with me..”
Cameron pulled back immediately, shock clear in his eyes. He was more flustered and blushy than before, a knot must have been stuck in his throat from the way he was gaping at you.
“I mean if you really want me to…”
It took you a moment to realize that your definition of “come to bed” and his definition were different and that for once, his was the more inappropriate of the too.
You laughed at him, almost as hard as you laughed the time he’d nearly crashed a parked car.
He stared at you, confused before coming to the ultimate conclusion that that’s not what you meant. The embarrassment hit him hard.
“Oh my god…” he muttered quietly, letting himself fall back onto your shoulder.
“Baby how-”you cut yourself off, laughing again. “Baby how did you come to that conclusion?”
“I don’t want to talk about it…”
“Aww, no need to feel embarrassed. We’ve all come to sexual conclusions at least once in our life’s”
“Stop,” he whined. “Can we just lay down now?”
“Of course we can..”
You ended up having to do a weird waddle over to the bed due to the fact that your big baby of a boyfriend refused to let you go.
You forced both yourself and him down to the bed, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled together.
“Good night, baby”
“I thought you said you’ll stop if I laid down with you?”
“That was before you thought I meant sex.”
He groaned and curled up closer to you, effectively hiding his face.
“Alright, I get it. I’m an idiot. Now let’s go to sleep.”
“Fine…”
After a long moment of darkness and silence he muttered, “I love you, y/n..”
“I love you too, Cameron.”
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padmsanakin · 4 years
Text
a/n: anakin and rex dance + name discussions. some headcanons on slave culture borrowed from fialleril. in response to a prompt from an ask post from @barissoffee
The moonlight smoothens the ridges and the uneven parts of the rocky grounds. The wind is almost still, the campfire dances gently over the wooden logs scavenged from the green trees. Its warm light outlines the tents and the equipment neatly tucked away behind the tent. Rex watches silently as the stars dots across the skies like glittery specks of sparkles. He still had not removed his armor, he sits on one of the logs surrounding the fire. He watches, completely enamored by the stars. His mouth gapes a little as his eyes widens with amazement and curiosity.
Snow begins to fall, white flakes dancing from the depths of the clouds that had not quite obscured the view of the stars. Rex does not move at all as bits of the snow falls onto his warm palms, quickly melting away into beads of water. The fire crackles as he turns his head. His general stands, his luscious honey-brown locks framing his face as Rex momentarily freezes in the spot. A moment of silence passes between them as the General walks towards him.
Rex’s smoky brown orbs locks with his beautiful ocean blue; it pulls him into the depths of the young man’s soul. He knows that his General wore his heart on his sleeve, reading his emotions were surprisingly easy. It is often frowned down by the Jedi, but he is one of the few Jedi who actually seemed to care. He is dumbfounded at the small quirk of a lip he received. Rex stands as his face turns red. He feels the urge to just walk away but he can’t. His heart skips a beat as his skin brushes with his tunic.
“General Skywalker, shouldn’t you be asleep?” Rex asks, as he feels his shoulders sag as he sits back down.
Anakin follows suit, his gaze shifted elsewhere, “Yeah, but, didn’t feel sleepy,”
Rex thinks for a moment, his fingers running through his blonde hair. He watches his General thoughtlessly pick at the glove that covers his prosthetic. The snow continues to fall as flakes begin to cover the ground like a thin blanket, the white powdery substance easily slips away in his palms. Rex has always wanted to tell him that he has pretty eyes. He stares into the blue orbs that stood out in the darkness as his face is illuminated dully by the fire.
Anakin abruptly stands, his hand reaching out for him. Anakin’s face lit up by an awkward smile, his flesh arm tangles into his hair, as Rex looks up. The latter feels his heartbeat quicken, his mouth dries. He stares into his beautiful eyes, his mind fuzzes out whenever he tries to form a coherent sentence. After a moment of silence, Anakin exhales softly as his flesh arm lowers, “Y-you want to dance?”
Rex pauses for a moment, mulling over his options. He knows this is against military regulations. However, it is his General asking. His brave, courageous, kind-hearted, beautiful General asking, his blue eyes looks so hopeful. He feels guilty about even thinking about refusing. Another part of him wants to do it, he wants to throw his arms around him and embrace him like there was no tomorrow - he wants to kiss him. Rex flushes, his ears twinged with dark red. Anakin’s gaze is so expectant and hopeful, the clone sighs as the conflict within him dissolves.
“Yes,” he whispers softly. There was no one to see him like this, right?
Rex notices how young his General is - the boyish slenderness has never really left - he knew there are kids in this war zone. Padawans, most barely over younglings, are thrown into the mess of the war. They are given the position of Commander and a responsibility more than what their scrawny shoulder should hold. The worst part is that they are expected to act the part. Commander Tano is one of them. It is a miracle that she is as stable as she is. However, what he does not expect is that his own General is barely above a padawan. Rex knows that his General was knighted much younger than most padawans. He was 19 when he was officially deemed as a knight.
Rex realizes that he is being led by a shiny Jedi.
He shakes his thoughts as his hands are placed on his General’s shoulders, Anakin’s arm gently wraps around his hip. He feels hot under his armor for a moment, his cheek is tinted by a rush of red. His hand clasps Anakin’s palm, Anakin makes a momentary strange noise. Rex can not help but be pulled in by his dazzling eyes, they slowly move through the rocky grounds. He stumbles through the first few steps, Anakin remains surprisingly patient. His heart races when Anakin’s lips quirks into a small smile. Rex’s heart flutters.
The snow continues to fall, the white powdery substance found its mark on his apple rosy cheeks. Rex feels the urge to brush it away. He manages to get into the rhythm of the non-existent music as the twirl and dip around the campfire. The fire rims their figures as Rex dips down with Anakin’s arms preventing him from falling. As he returns back up, his thumb strays to his General’s face, brushing away the flakes of snow that covers his face. Anakin smiles, slightly wider than usual, and it was enough for the clone to freeze in his tracks. Anakin’s eyebrows quirk up, heat rushes into Rex’s face as he squeezes Anakin’s palm a little harder.
The snow continues to fall, melting away upon touching their skins; it never stays very long anyway. Anakin drops a quip, Rex rolls his eyes fondly. Anakin grins like the di’kut he is, he can not help but return with a small smile of his own. Anakin frees his flesh arm from his grip as he brushes away a stray flake of snow that dots Rex’s nose. He flushes almost upon touch, his mind goes blank.
“Just returning the favor,” Anakin says, his voice barely above a whisper and humor was clear in his tone. Rex puffs his cheek out in a sudden rush of frustration but he does not mind, really. Anakin chuckles under his breath as his flesh arm clasps around the clone’s warm palms.
“Why are you called Rex?” Anakin asks, his question catches the clone off guard. Rex mulls over his words as they continue to dance slowly. The snow falls onto his luscious locks of hair, the clone smothers the urge to go ahead and ruffle his hair to get rid of the white powder. He bites his lip as he tries to form a coherent response. His General does not seem to be in a rush, he hears him humming softly to a tune the clone did not recognize.
“Well, er -” Rex pauses, as his palm slips from Anakin’s grip, rubbing the back of his neck, “In a language that precedes Basic, Rex means King. My batchmates tend to, well, call me that because I always led them when we were cadets. And, it just stuck,”
Anakin’s countenance twists into something of thoughtfulness, Rex could not help but chuckle at how his General’s face has screwed up. His General scowls playfully, the Captain just smiles knowingly as they twirl away from the warmth of the campfire. The snow continues to fall onto them, it is not heavy yet. It feels just right.
“What about your name?” Rex asks casually, his brown orbs meeting with his gem-like blue ones. Anakin pauses for a moment, his gaze shifts onto the ground. Despite being a head taller than the clone, Anakin looks rather small.
“My mom named me,” Anakin begins softly. Rex feels a feeling of apprehension take hold of him. He knows that Anakin was inducted into the Jedi Order far later than most. This means that he knows his mother. And often, it is a taboo topic around Anakin. The General would often brush it off or quickly change the subject; however, his face always held this simmering rage and sorrow whenever she was brought up in conversation.
“It means sunshine in an old language… it is a native language to Tatooine before the Hutts came about. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to speak it,” Anakin admits sheepishly,” My last name was derived from Ekkreth, a trickster who frees slaves. In Basic, it means Skywalker,”
There is a pregnant pause between the two as Rex’s eyebrows knits in concentration, keeping up with Anakin’s pace. Something about this dance feels so surreal to Rex, sure, he has heard stories from Bly and General Secura wanting to suck their faces out for an hour straight or those other ones in which General Vos and Fox go on undercover dates which were usually located in the nearest janitor closet. Heck, he has even heard from the 212th that Cody - his ori’vod - wanting to kiss General Kenobi. Rex feels hot under his collar, he regrets not taking off his armor until he realizes that it is still snowing.
He is convinced that he is going green at the thought of his ori’vod kissing his General’s surrogate ori’vod. Rex is pulled out of his thoughts as Anakin’s eyes lock with his own. He feels the urge to talk, just to diffuse the awkward silence that follows.
“Sunshine, huh?”
Anakin shrugs in reply, “My mom has always viewed me as a blessing and she thought calling me sunshine in an ancient language would be fitting - ,”
“Well, you are kinda like a sunshine to me and my vods,” Rex explains, his fingers tangling into Anakin’s locks of hair as he brushes away the snow that dots across it, “ A blinding piece of beacon during battle - kind of like the sun,”
Anakin snorts; his eyebrows quirks up. Rex traces the scar over his eyes as they continue swaying along to a music they cannot hear. He twirls around as he dips down once more. Anakin lifts him back up, accidentally stepping his shoe. Rex hisses in pain as Anakin mumbles profuse apologies. Their dance begins to wind down as Rex feels a sense of calmness bubbling in his chest.
“Sunshine. C-can I call you sunshine?” Rex asks softly, a blush crept over his cheeks.
“L-like in private?” Anakin asks, red creeping over his face.
“Yeah,” Rex replies, a bit more sure of himself.
Anakin hums thoughtfully, “I guess,”
Their dance winds down, their steps begin to slow. They slowly come to a stop as the fire was about to die out. It flickers pitifully, grasping onto the last lease of life it has. Anakin and Rex part, stepping backwards. The snow begins to pelt down slightly harder than it did when they were dancing.
“Thanks, s-sunshine, for the dance,”
Anakin perks up, a smile melts into his face, “Thanks, Rex, a-and I love you,”
Anakin leaves a quick peck to his neck, Rex stands dumbfounded. His heart flutters as he feels warm and fuzzy. His surprised expression morphs into a smile as his shiny General disappears into his tent almost immediately. Before he disappears into the tent, Rex calls him out.
“I love you too, cyare,”
Anakin smiles, a little brighter than before. His smile was so blinding, Rex enamors himself at the beauty of his smile. With a light chest, he disappears into his tent and falls asleep contently.
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whatdidimissjm · 4 years
Text
It´s The Middle Of The Night
Alex wakes up with a scream, his heart beating fast and loud in his chest. He is completely drenched in sweat and needs a moment to realise where he is and what happened. He tries to turn on the light, but is so tangled up in his blanket, that he can´t move. Another wave of panic surges through him and he starts shivering, tears forming in his eyes. He lets out a strangled sob, fighting to get out of the cocoon that his blanket has formed. He manages to do so after what feels like endless minutes of hell, reaching over at the nightstand. He attempts to turn on the light, but his hands are trembling so much that he has trouble pressing the light switch. Finally, he manages to press it down and the room gets flooded with light. It hurts in his eyes and he has to press them shut again, but at least the light dissipates some of his panic. He is still crying when he picks up his phone and starts a video call. He has to wait almost a minute before Thomas answers the call, so long that he had almost thought he wouldn´t.
“Alex?”, he asks, his voice rough from sleep and he seems to be half sleeping.
His eyes are barely open, and his hair is a mess.
Alex wants to say something in response, but instead he lets out another sob. Thomas is fully awake in a second, staring horrified at his boyfriend.
“Alex, darling, what happened?”, Thomas asks frantically.
That just causes Alex to cry harder, clinging to the phone like it´s a lifeline.
“Shh, baby, calm down.”, Thomas says, trying to sound reassuring, but there is a panicked edge to it.
It takes almost ten minutes of Thomas talking softly to Alex, until he calms down enough to get out a more or less coherent sentence.
“I had a nightmare.”, he mumbles, his cheeks flushing red in shame. “It´s so stupid.”
“Hey, hey none of that.”, Thomas says softly. “But I´m really glad it´s a nightmare and nothing more serious.”
“I´m sorry.”, Alex says, with a small hiccup.
“Alex, stop it.”, his boyfriend says firmly.
Alex wants to say something in response, but notices that Thomas seems to be moving.
“Where´re you going? It´s the middle of the night.”, Alex asks confused, the panic forgotten for a moment.
“I´m walking to your flat, idiot.”, he says fondly.
Alex lets out another soft sob and fells his face growing hot, as it flushes in shame. He hides his face in the blanket, muffling his response.
“What was that?”, Thomas asks, and Alex reluctantly raises his head again.
“Don´t come.”
He can see the confusion on his boyfriend´s face and sighs. Saying it out loud will only make it worse.
“I´m embarrassed enough that you´ve see me like this.”, he says quietly.
“Oh baby.”, he sighs. “I´m almost there. Hold on.”
True to his word, Alex hears the front door opening a few minutes later, and then Thomas is by his side. He carefully moves the blanket from Alexander´s head and combs his fingers through his hair. Alex looks up at him with red eyes, an occasional tear slipping down his face.
“I´ll just change real quick and then I´m all yours, alright?”
Alex nods and Thomas presses a quick kiss to his forehead, before he walks to the wardrobe to take out his pyjama. Alex watches him as he quickly changes and gets into bed with him. Once he has settled down, he opens his arms, motioning for Alex to move closer. He hesitates a moment, before he curls up in his boyfriend´s arms. He takes a deep breath and the familiar smell and Thomas´ arms wrapped around him finally help him to relax.
“You wanna talk about it?”, Thomas asks quietly, while softly rubbing his back.
Alex makes a noncommitting noise and squirms to make himself more comfortable. Thomas laughs quietly at that and presses a kiss to Alexander´s hair.
“Alright then.”
They stay like this for some time without saying anything and Alex starts to gradually feel better and better. His heartbeat slows down and he doesn´t feel so shaken anymore.
“Thank you for coming.”, he mumbles.
Thomas presses another kiss to his hair, threading his fingers through it.
“Anytime, baby.”
He feels Thomas take in a deep breath and then his hands stop.
“Hey Alex?”, he asks, his voice suddenly unsure.
Alex looks up at him with a questioning look.
“Hm?”
“Your flat is really shitty.”
Alex shakes his head confused.
“What? You came here. I told you to stay away.”, he gives back, almost pouting.
Thomas laughs.
“I know.”, he hesitates a moment, before he continues. “So, your flat is shitty and I´m sleeping so much better when you are around and I think you do too and also you spend so much time at my flat anyway, so I was thinking, and it´s totally fine if you don´t want that, but-“
Alex reaches up and cups Thomas cheek and the older man stops.
“Babe, you´re rambling. Get to the point.”
Thomas nods.
“Yeah. Right. I´m just a bit nervous. So, what I wanted to say is, do you want to move in with me?”
Alex stares at him surprised. He feels his heart fluttering in his chest and tears burning in his eyes.
“Shit, Alex, you´re crying again, did I fuck this up?”
Alex shakes his head, now crying and laughing at the same time. He leans forward and presses a messy and wet kiss to Thomas´ lips.
“Yes.”, he whispers, when they part again. “Holy shit, yes, I´d love to move in with you.”
Thomas gives him a happy smile and nods.
“Okay, great.”
Alex grins back and kisses him again.
“You are an idiot.”, he says, yawning.
“You are the bigger idiot here.”, Thomas gives back, the fondness obvious in his voice. “Now sleep. I can see how tired you are.”
Alex nuzzles closer, burring his face in Thomas´ shirt.
“Don´t let go alright?”, Alex asks, yawning again.
“Never.”, Thomas gives back.
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